Honor and Distinction: Act I (Complete)
by EPClover
Summary: A view of the Galactic Civil War through the lens of the Empire. Valen Rannix, a menial TIE pilot aboard the first Death Star, is fighting for recognition amongst millions of officers in the Imperial Navy. Reassigned to an active duty Star Destroyer, he finally has a chance to get out of his dead end post, and join the hunt for the Rebellion.


Star Wars: Honor and Distinction

Act I 

Chapter I: Alderaan

"Glory to the Empire. Long live the Emperor!" The voice, assertive, convicted, echoes in a stark black room, gleaming gloss from top to bottom. A lone pilot stands at attention in a black jumpsuit, the black helmet under his arm resembling a scowling skull. Dirty blonde hair sits short, but disheveled upon his head. Stiff as a board, he stands alone in front of a seated older gentleman. The older man sits at a glossy black desk, an impeccable grey uniform seemingly ironed onto his shoulders. Flipping through papers with gloved hands, he inspects a report.

"You have done well, Junior Lieutenant…..uh-" He looks up from the paperwork on his desk at the pilot, standing at attention in front of him.

"Rannix, sir. Valen Rannix," the young man says with pride. A menial TIE pilot, he is among a fleet of fighters assigned to the Empire's newest terrifying space station: The Death Star, fresh off a patrol mission around the area.

The comms are abuzz with chatter about the blast, even hours later. Valen remembers watching from an observation deck as the planet of Alderaan is shattered into stardust. The stars gleam over the sleek black surface of his face mask as the ion engines howl through the hull of Valen's sleek Imperial fighter. Epsilon, Valen's fighter squadron, has been assigned to patrol the debris field and assess damages with engineering teams. Valen continues on his heading, all alone on outer patrol, categorizing debris sectors, mapping clear areas. In the quiet void of space, Valen listens to the voices of the other pilots in his squadron.

"I can't believe that! We just blasted the whole planet!"

"I know, Byrus! We'll be hard pressed to see any opposition now."

"Rebel sympathizers had what was coming to them. We're the ultimate power in this galaxy now!"

Valen soaks in the empowered voices as he stares blankly out his cockpit window at the stars. It's always beautiful out here. Free. But then, something happens that snaps him out of it. A beeping in his cockpit. Valen looks around, as if he'd never even heard that beep before, and then zeroes in on it. It's coming from his sensor readouts. A blip blinks on and off on the little screen. The bracket is marked [UNKNOWN]. The black skull suddenly turns from the instruments and scans the area out the front window. Out in front of and above him a distance away, a disc shaped ship drops out of hyperspace, right at the edge of the debris field. Valen's buzzing voice emanates from behind the skull, "Commsat 90, this is Epsilon 35 on outer patrol. I have an unidentified ship on short-range, coming out of hyperspace. Corellian light freighter, heavily modified. Hyperspace exit point suggests they were headed to the planet."

"Copy Epsilon 35, follow procedure."

Valen, excited for the chance to prove himself a capable pilot, spins up the ion engines on his short range starfighter. He pulls up and starts to come close to the freighter from behind.

The Rebel scum will fly anything, it seems. Why would someone offset the pilot's cabin like that? It looks like it was scrapped together in a junkyard.

Taking the opportunity to apply some flourish, Valen barrel rolls close on the freighter's six, his fighter shaking violently in the engine wash. He laughs excitedly under his helmet, and screams past the freighter's radar dish, over the cockpit.

"Woo hoo!" Valen hoots as he buzzes the unsuspecting ship. However, his reckless behavior is immediately put in check by the commsat operators.

"Watch it, 35. Our sensors read medium armaments on that thing." As he passes the freighter, he immediately checks through the aft porthole behind his seat. The freighter is speeding up to pursue, but quickly starts falling behind, out of range of his quick ship. That piece of junk won't be firing on his quick TIE/LN fighter any time soon.

"Station Comm, Epsilon 35. On a vector towards the station, freighter is in pursuit."

"Copy Epsilon, we have them on sensors now. Bring them within range of the tractor and dock for debriefing."

Comfortably away from the intruders, Valen sits back in his seat and preps the fighter to dock. Valen takes the time to consider if he'll get a commendation, or better yet, a promotion for his work. Honor and Distinction, finally. He peels off to port side as the freighter is pulled into the station, and continues to his hangar.

"You show promise, Lieutenant, uh...the freighter was noted escaping Tatooine with known fugitives and traitors to the Empire on board. We're poring over the effects for anything that can trace them back to where they were dropped off, unfortunately the ship was abandoned."

"They will be found and die a traitor's death, sir."

"Yes, well done," the Commander says dismissively as he flips some papers from the back to the front. "The Star Destroyer Phalanx is at Drydock 2, scheduled to disembark in 5 hours. You will be reassigned to Flight Group Theta. Report to Quartermaster Donovan."

"Yes, sir!"

"You are dismissed," the grey suited officer says as he finally looks up from his papers. His eyes motion over Valen's shoulder to the door.

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir." Valen spins 180 degrees, and exits the room, bursting with pride all the way down the corridor.

He arrives in his fighter wing's garrison complex and enters his quarters. Walking across the shining black room, he opens his dresser, pulling out his officer's clothes and gear, haphazardly tossing it into his rucksack. Walking back out, he stands in the doorway to his quarters and takes one last look at it.

A real tour! At last, I've been rewarded for my work.

Valen rushes back out into the complex and marches off, following signs to "DD-2." As he walks through a gleaming black hallway on the outer surface of the drydock, he can see the Phalanx high above him through the windows. A massive, white-grey speartip is perched on giant supporting arms in the cavernous dock. Valen smiles up at the powerful cruiser he will call home as he enters a personnel turbolift to board. Alone inside the lift, he looks around anxiously, lightly walking back and forth and looking at the numbers above the door.

As he exits the turbolift, he rushes out to see there is an empty desk in the hallway. On the desk is a pile of sheets, with a note next to them.

"Donovan away. Sign in with name, rank, serial."

A little perplexed, Valen grabs a pen and signs in amongst all the other names.  
"Valen Rannix. Junior Lieutenant. TI-2505-21-985." Valen stands up from this rather underwhelming welcome, and flips the pen onto the desk. He walks down the garrison hallway; a long, curved row of dark grey doors with signal lights above them, until he finds the door with his name on it.

-Jr. Lt. Rannix  
-Jr. Lt. Merik  
Merik? Ando?

Valen opens the door with a whoosh, and looks inside.

Wow. This is small.

More like a cell than a room, the area is barely big enough for two small beds with a space between them, and a footlocker at the ends. Valen purses his lips, and sighs in slight disappointment. The station quarters were much better equipped. He tosses his bag on top of the foot locker, and decides to go explore the ship.

With the Phalanx now under weigh from the Death Star, Valen wanders into the mess hall. This place is much different from the shining hallways of the Death Star. The walls are a drab grey, the ceilings low. The troopers sit segregated by the color and type of uniform they wear. Valen looks around, and instantly recognizes his friend from the squadron back on the station.

"Ando!"

"Valen!" Andorus Merik, a young lieutenant junior class, sits at a bench as Valen walks over. Stationed on board the Death Star for months before Valen arrived, Ando still has not seen any action.

"Hey Valen!" Ando is quick to put on an unabashed grin at seeing his friend, and waves him over to his table.

"I didn't know you were being sent out with the Phalanx."

"Oh yeah, man. There have been a bunch of the other defense squadrons transferred on board, but hey! I heard you captured a Rebel freighter trying to bring spies to Alderaan!"

"I did?"

"Yeah, I can't believe they got away."

"Well they're going through any evidence on the ship to track them down. I bet they'll tear that thing apart until they figure out where the ship dropped them off."

"Well. No," Ando says, Valen giving a puzzled look in response. Andorus sits surprised, "You haven't heard?! There were spies hiding on board the freighter, there was a firefight in the prison block!"

"What?!"

"Some of the troopers say they saw a Jedi get killed by Lord Vader!"

"Wow, really?! I guess they sectioned off the area, I didn't hear any alarm," Valen says, disappointed.

"Yeah, they escaped in their ship, they sent the rest of Epsilon Squadron from the outer patrol to track them."

"Your rookie friends in Epsilon will never catch them." A man with slicked black hair turns from a bench behind them. As he turns in his seat, the Imperial insignia on his shoulder bears a red stripe. "They're an under equipped and inexperienced rabble of boys."

Valen immediately goes on the defense, "What makes you think that our fighters are not superior?! We're all TIE pilots!"

"You, are TIE pilots. Your ships are inferior cannon fodder with limited firepower."

"And who're you to say we don't all fight for our Emperor?!" Valen stands up, but notices Ando keeps sitting, looking down at his food.

Ando knocks Valen's wrist, speaking under his breath, "Sit down, Valen." As Valen looks back, the man stands up, a full head taller than him.

"I am Lieutenant Yudoran Antilles, I fly with Alpha Squadron for my Emperor. I fight. And I destroy my enemies for my Emperor. You rookies cruise on uneventful patrols and run back to the battle station at the first signs of action. We are not TIE pilots. We are Elite pilots. And you have not fought for our Emperor yet."

Valen struggles for something to say back.

"Now sit down before you wet yourself on my boots. Your rookie face looks as sad as Rebel militia scum-" Suddenly, Valen's fist flies almost independent of his body, connecting as hard as he can with Yudoran's face. Yudoran rocks back on his feet, and returns with lightning ferocity. Valen's world flashes white, and goes dark. He hears yelling and clattering of dishes in the mess hall, as if in a dream. It feels like Valen is chasing the echoes down a long hallway. He hears Yudoran's voice shout, "Glory to the Empire!"

As Valen starts coming to, he feels hands under his arms, his feet dragging and bumping over the seams in the floor plating. In his daze, his shins whack against something rigid, and he is dropped onto a mat, face down. He looks up to see the shining white armor of two hulking stormtroopers as they exit the room. He is lying in a bunk in his new quarters, his feet draped over his rucksack. Valen lethargically rolls onto his side, and notices he is not alone.

"Ahem, Junior Lieutenant." A smooth voice comes from a man sitting on the bunk opposite his. In Valen's dizzy, fuzzy vision, he can only make out that the man has greying hair. Valen shakes his head to try and get the blur out of his eyes, and sits up in his bunk. "I see you've met Elite Lieutenant Yudoran."

Valen puts a hand up to his eye. He winces in pain, noticing the reason his vision is blurry is because his eye is nearly swollen shut. "Lieutenant Antilles?"

"It's a good thing he didn't hear you say that. The name Antilles is too common, he prefers to be called Yudoran."

"How does he even fit in a TIE fighter? He's as big as a stormtrooper, they should put a blaster in his hand and have him fight the Rebels on foot."

The man chuckles and tosses a cold pack into Valen's lap. "Just call him Lieutenant Yudoran."

Valen is still a little raw over his encounter in the mess hall. He grabs the pack and puts it to his face, shortly asking, "And you are?"

"I am Captain Folund Darius, in command of Theta Squadron."

Surprised to have been speaking with his Captain so casually, Valen stirs to attention and starts to shoot upward. "Uh, sir-" Halfway up, the silver haired man puts a hand on Valen's shoulder to stay his rise. The grip is extremely firm, and stops Valen immediately, as if Valen had unknowingly risen into the ceiling.

"That's fine, son," the smooth voice says, and the hand puts Valen back into his seat. Valen sits quietly, waiting in respect for Folund to continue speaking. "Lieutenant Yudoran's part of an Elite squadron; aces. They've been assigned to test the prototype TIE Interceptors. Naturally they think they're better than the TIE Regs, and certainly the rookies among them. He's correct, Lieutenant Junior-Class Rannix. You haven't fought for your Emperor yet." The fact stings Valen more than the swollen bruise on his face. Folund picks up some papers next to him on the bunk. "Says here you graduated well, with a marked aptitude for flight, and noted patriotism for our Empire. But your career experience is that of…an outpost near Coruscant...and then you were stationed on the Emperor's newest crowned jewel, which they say can defend itself against anything."

"But sir-"

"Son. I'm not here to give you a 'pep talk.' You haven't yet served your Emperor in combat. He believes pilots such as you would not be capable of defending his station. The Emperor wants the defense squadrons around his crowned jewel to be hardened veterans. You've been sent to me among many others to bolster your experience. If the squadron survives, it will return, ready to defend the Emperor's most important installation."

Defeated, Valen can only sit at attention while Folund stands over him. "Yes, sir."

"On this tour, you have an opportunity to prove yourself worthy of the fleet. Worthy of your Emperor's praise…" Darius straightens the papers over his knee, and stands up from the bunk. "I have to take this report to my supervisor now and apologize for my newest pilot's misconduct in the mess hall. You're confined to quarters until further notice, reflect upon your behavior around our valuable Elite."

"Yes, sir." Valen looks down, holding the cold pack over his face, and Captain Darius walks to the door.

He stops and turns back to Valen. "Junior Lieutenant." Valen looks up again as Darius stands in the doorway.

"You should appreciate your opportunity to be tutored and trained to hunt the Rebels with us. Unfortunately... not all could be so lucky. We've received word that the rest of Epsilon Squadron was destroyed in pursuit of the Rebel freighter, I'm sorry, son." The silver haired man turns back toward the corridor and walks out. The door closes with a whoosh and the locks clamp shut, leaving Valen alone on the cot. Valen sinks into his bunk and rolls to his side, facing the wall of the quarters.

"Theta Group. Your enemy is a desperate foe. The Empire labels them a fleet of ragtag misfits, flying outdated technology." Captain Darius' voice echoes over his pilots. "You must NEVER underestimate a desperate opponent, or 'outdated tech.' Their 'outdated tech' is the Y-Wing bomber, armed with ion turrets to knock-out any calls for help while they empty a huge payload of proton torpedoes. The X-Wing fighter is a relatively new and brilliant design; the brainchild of the infamous Incom. Before the traitorous engineers stole the plans and gave them to the Rebels, that fighter was meant for the Imperial fleet. You don't need me telling you its capabilities, I'm sure you got an earful at the Academy. Make no mistake, pilots. TIEs may be faster, more maneuverable ships, but your 'fighting grid,' 'overwhelm the enemy' tactics are what are outdated when fighting the Rebels. What happens to your superior numbers when you engage one of their behemoth Y-Wing fighter bombers? How many of your friends can you put in front of you until you wear down their payload and their VERY heavy shields? I am here to teach you how to kill Rebel scum ship to ship. I am here to teach you to become aces, and together, we will bring glory to our Empire!"

"GLORY TO THE EMPIRE! LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR!" The ranks of TIE pilots bark in unison, the chorus of voices echoing through the flight hangar.

"We are en route to a Rebel outpost on the occupied moon of Sarron, supported by some of our newest weapons. Be excited, gentlemen; we are going to bomb that outpost to oblivion. I have Commander Ferros here, leading Beta Group. He'll tell you about the new TIE bombers we're to escort on their torpedo run." An officer in brown uniform stands with a small group of pilots behind him, facing the rest of the crowd. He begins to outline the capabilities of the fleet's new heavy bombers.

"Hey Valen," Ando stands next to Valen in the column, whispering under the voice. "Aren't you excited? We're going to finally take on the Rebellion!"

"This is gonna be tough, we don't know the first thing about escorting bombers."

"Are you kidding? Shield Position, as stated in the battle plan. We get to fly in formation and watch the light show! Just like at Alderaan!"

"Don't do anything stupid, alright? You're the only person I know out here, Ando."

Captain Darius' voice echoes over the column, "Pilots, to your fighters. Stick with your wingmen, they will keep you alive."

"What do you think he meant by that?"

"Haha, you worry too much," Ando smirks and throws on his helmet. His voice buzzes out from under the facemask. "Let's kill some Rebs!" They split up in the hangar bay as TIEs and TIE Bombers start descending from the racks and powering up. Valen passes the small group of pilots with red stripes. They watch quietly with steely eyes.

Valen looks out the corner of his eye from under his helmet, and speaks with Ando over the squad comms. "Why aren't the Alphas suiting up?"

"This is a field teaching exercise, Junior Lieutenant. They're observing what Theta Group can do." Captain Darius speaks calmly through the comm. "You and I are going out first, Rannix. Stick with me, I'll have our flight path uploaded to your fighter."

"Yes, sir."

"Junior Lieutenant Merik, you will take off after our escort and cover from behind with Lieutenant Ryth."

Valen sits anxiously in the cockpit of his TIE fighter as it hangs from the rack. He looks below him and sees nothing but white streaks, lighting the inside of his cabin. The stars rush past below as the Phalanx travels at lightspeed. Hanging precariously, Valen looks away, trying not to think of what will happen if his fighter falls from the rack at these speeds. He hangs opposite Darius and can do nothing but stare at him out his cockpit. He can see the wide double hull of the blue TIE bomber on the rack behind Darius' fighter. The bomber's solar panels are crooked, bending inward from the sides.

"Valen, have you seen anything like those new bombers? They look like Vader's!" The bomber is an intimidating sight, seeing one entire hull with nothing but a torpedo launch tube on it.

An electronic sounding whistle zings in Valen's cockpit, and he focuses back on Darius, whose voice buzzes through the comms.

"Alright boys, spin up your ion engines and prepare to be dropped." Darius puts a hand above his head and whirls it in a horizontal loop. Valen and Darius' ship begin to pivot on their moorings until they are both facing the same direction.

The Phalanx drops out of hyperspace with a judder. The bright streaks below Valen's cockpit become little specks of starlight in a black abyss. The hull echoes as the Phalanx's turbolasers begin to boom and twang. Valen's heart stops, and he looks forward at the scaffolding of the main hangar bay. He can hear, no, feel the hooks and actuators sliding and unclipping across his fighter's hull. In an instant, the scaffolding shoots upward, and Valen is in the stars. Valen's anxious senses become hyperfast over the shock.

Ok, telemetry. Telemetry looks good, G forces nominal. Sink rate is slowing, that's automatic. Ion engines; ion engines at 97%, why is that? Why not 100%? They should be functioning better-

Darius buzzes through the intercoms, "Throttle up, Rannix and keep with me." Darius' TIE fighter starts to move forward ahead of Valen. Valen snaps out of it and throttles up, catching up to his leader. "Theta Squadron leader and wingman are clear."

"Roger, Beta 1 dropping...Beta 1 and Theta rear guard are clear, on approach to target."

"Copy Flight, Beta 1, 2, and 3 are clear, on approach with escorts."

"Beta 4, 5, and 6 are clear. Throttling up and on approach. All yours Theta, keep us covered."

Valen swivels and peers out the tiny aft porthole to see the bomber flying behind them. TIEs and their bombers are beginning to fill the rear window. He looks back in front at a small moon, orbiting a gas giant. The shape is irregular and small, more like an asteroid, with its surface pockmarked and barren. Green flashes of turbolaser fire from the Phalanx are rushing overhead, bombarding the surface of the moon, and shuddering the hull of Valen's ship. Now closer, he can see slightly reflective, silvery domes on the surface. He can just make out orange spots. There are fires on some of the decks of the settlement.

Before it can register, heavy red bolts start to zip past the TIEs. The lasers skip and pop on bits of stardust, the orange flashes tossing the lightweight ships around in the void; a terrific and frightening turbulence.

"We're in range of their turrets, spread out. Theta Leader, adjusting approach vectors for all squadrons."

"Copy, Theta Leader, adjusting to-..."

A brilliant flash of orange and red illuminate Valen's cockpit. He looks back through the aft window to see a TIE fighter torn to bits, the pieces twirling and falling away.

"Did you see th-"

"Eyes front Theta 37! Get back in formation in front of your bomber! Theta 40 move in from the rear and cover forward." The shaking intensifies, and the bright flashes start to occur closer together. Reports start listing fighters down. The reports come in one after another, shockingly fast.

"Theta 22"

"Theta 38"

"Theta 36, 35, and 18"

Coming in closer now, Valen sees a glint. A shadow in the system's blue sun above, in front of them. As he tries to make out the silhouettes, their shapes change, and become recognizable.

X's. X's!

"Captain, enemy X-Wings at 12 o'clock!" Valen finds himself shouting over the clamor into his comm.

Captain Darius firmly responds, "Copy Rannix, you're with me. Theta 27-31, follow my lead, escort groups move from rear to forward guard." Darius' TIE immediately pulls up, Valen following with the others. Valen breathes heavily, his breath shaking under his mask as they pull up and away from the rest of the TIEs, forming a grid fighting formation. Full throttle towards the sun. Straight into the path of the enemy fighters.

"Squadron, open fire and prepare to break grid formation on my mark!"

The TIEs begin to fire fluorescent green bolts of light up into the sun as the X shaped shadows return with red blasts.

"Mark!"

The TIEs flick and whirl around the X-Wings as they pass through them. The X-Wings glide and roll gracefully through.

1, 2...5? Five enemy fighters?

"Captain, I only count five X's." Valen says, scanning around for any more.

"More than enough to do a lot of damage to our bomber squadrons, get back around on their tail before they take them all out!" Captain Darius sounds noticeably stressed now, but is keeping a brave face in front of all the rookies. The TIEs pull in behind the X-wings and start blasting away at their shields. The X-Wings fire off some quick shots at the bomber formations, and barrel roll through the fighters.

"Get on them, 28 and 29. X at your 3 o'clock. Chase him off and take him out. 27, 30, 31, head after the two at your 11 o'clock, high. Rannix, follow me over the formations, we're taking the other two."

Valen follows Captain Darius over the formations of bombers and pulls around the far edge, coming down on top of the X-Wings. Looking through his octagonal front window, Valen watches Darius barrel ahead and fire three shots directly into the cockpit of one of the X-Wings. The cockpit shatters, and the nosecone splits off the front of the enemy ship. It breaks apart and explodes. The other X-Wing pulls off to evade, and Darius stays on it, Valen struggling to keep up.

"Theta Leader, Beta 1 is in range of the outpost."

"Copy Beta, take out the priority target!" Darius is now shouting into the comm with the rest of the chatter as he chases this X-Wing up and down the formations. Valen looks up out of his dorsal windows to see a volley of proton cocooned bombs falling from the TIE bomber in their group. A massive explosion shears rock and metal from the surface, and all of a sudden the laser blasts from the base completely cut out. The lights in the base windows dim and flicker.

"Theta Leader, Beta 2 and 3 are ready for bombing run."

"Negative, take evasive action! Ryth, Merik, pull around and cover Beta 2 and 3!" Led on such a winding chase, Valen has just now realized their quarry has led them all the way back toward the bombers. The X-Wing pulls up above the formations and corkscrews downward onto the bombers, firing its quad lasers. Valen sees an intercept course and pulls away from Darius, cutting the corner the X-Wing has made. Merik and Ryth can be seen ahead, climbing towards the fighter head-on as the bombers sluggishly dive away.

"Copy, we're engaging target, mark decimal 2-..." One of the TIEs is obliterated in the blast of enemy fire. Merik's voice can be heard over comms screaming as his TIE pulls out of the way, the X-Wing diving past him at the bombers.

Valen cuts the X-Wing off. Catching up and surprising the enemy fighter, he fires up at its belly and shears one of its wings off. Valen watches for just a moment as the enemy fighter flies apart and spins toward the moon.

I got him….I got him!

"Blast it, watch it, Rannix!" Valen and Darius nearly collide as they cross paths. Valen pulls around to head back to Darius again.

"Sorry sir, I saw an opening-"

"You almost killed both of us, rookie, try to use your head! Pull around and see if-..." The comm fizzles out, static hissing and whining in feedback so shrill Valen grabs at his helmet. Valen frantically looks out his windows for any sign of Captain Darius' demise. He spots the Captain's ship drifting lifelessly, crackling and arcing with ionization. Valen's heart sinks as a massive Y-Wing fighter roars past, firing volleys of torpedoes into the formations. TIEs explode and fly apart like brittle leaves.

In the chaos, the formations are thinning and starting to waver. The only way to stop the enemy torpedo bomber is to distract it. After a few quick breaths, Valen steels himself and exhales forcefully, throwing his TIE into full throttle. He zips in and rattles the Y-Wing's shields, buzzing over its cockpit. The Y-Wing turns after him sluggishly, but the turret on top of the cockpit swivels right at Valen, constantly firing blue bolts of paralyzing ion energy. The telltale X shapes of the other 3 enemy fighters start to converge on the Y-Wing as Valen squares off with it. He makes another pass on the juggernaut of a ship and batters its forward shields down, frying the ion turret above the canopy. Valen pulls around for another pass, but is immediately met with withering fire from the 3 X-Wings, who have now formed up on the Y-Wing in its assault. Valen desperately rolls away, the fighters in chase. Frantically, he flips about, climbing and diving, looping and barrel rolling, trying to evade. He can't lose them, not 4 of them. Blazing red fire sizzles past his canopy, clipping his solar panels. He can feel the heat through the glass.

"Cover me! Somebody cover me!" Valen cries out for help.

"Negative Theta Squadron, continue on course and bomb the target." Anonymous voices from the Phalanx cut in.

"I'm in trouble! Command, anybody, this is Theta 4! I need assistance!"

"..."

The comms have been isolated from him. Nobody can hear Valen anymore. A bolt of fire burns through the hull underneath Valen's cockpit, jolting his fighter up from underneath, and a slew of alarms start going off. Valen's heart stops again.

Fuel tank, was that the fuel tank?! Engines at 52% and falling, hull breach, stabilizers sluggish, weapons malfunctioning, heat sink damaged, I'm rolling to starboard!

Valen's head swivels around looking out the dorsal and aft windows as he wrestles for control of his fighter. Sparks are streaming out the back of his TIE from one side. An X-Wing is above, in the dorsal window, another directly behind. The Y-Wing is in chase with the other X-Wing in escort. They're all around him. Valen looks back out his cockpit window and struggles just to keep control.

This is it. I wasn't ready.

Suddenly, green laser bolts rain down on the Y-Wing, crushing the portion right in the middle of its tail. The behemoth sinks from its middle like it was made of rubber, and explodes immediately. The hail of green continues as the X-Wings dive down and pass under Valen. Valen cuts the power to one ion engine to stabilize his TIE. He looks out through his fore window at the spectacle as the X-Wings flee the green fire. The X trailing behind gets clipped in the engine, barrel rolling out of control and exploding in a flash of light. Six blue TIEs rush by with crooked, forked solar panels, green strobes streaming from multiple points on the ships. Valen limps around to face the battle, the lights flickering in his cockpit. Off in the distance, the bombers have rejoined formation. Valen's comms start feeding back again, squealing and buzzing.

"...-ybody read me. Th-s is Th-... -eader. Commence bom-...-un. Repeat, commence bomb-..run immediately. The missi-n …-still on." The comms hiss and fizz as Captain Darius can be heard from his disabled TIE. The bombers continue their approach over the outpost, and start dropping blue spheres of glowing light. Enormous chunks of the silvery structures are heaved out into space. The base vanishes in a torrent of blue and red explosions. The remaining two X-Wings are chased off, and disappear to lightspeed, the six crooked TIEs rolling off and returning to the field. After the tumultuous rumbles, and silence, comms ring through once more.

"Command, this is Beta 2. Bombing run successful."

"Beta 3. Bombing run successful."

"Beta 4, success, returning to Phalanx."

"Theta squadron, ..-orm up on the bomb-rs, return to-...-alanx. Well done, gentlemen."

"Copy Theta Lead, dispatching tow shuttles, stand by. Alpha Leader, control the area. Dropship Omega is headed in to clean up."

"Roger Command. Alphas, nice work, head back. I have this under control." A gravelly voice chimes through the comms.

Valen sluggishly heads back towards the Phalanx, the TIE formations far ahead of him. Keeping it slow and steady, Valen watches his instruments carefully for any spikes in the outputs. Things have stabilized a bit, but Valen has had to shut off some systems and power down a few control panels. Only about half of the cockpit is still lit. A flight of shuttles can be seen heading towards him.

"Theta 4, this is Engineering Wing 3. You're listing pretty bad to your starboard side. Are you in need of assistance?"

Oh, this embarrassment is all I need.

"Uh, Negative, Engineering. Everything is under control. I'm taking her in."

"We're dispatching Tug 1B to escort you."

"I say again, Engineering: Negative. That will not be-"

"Keep your heading, Tug 1B will form up on your aft starboard to assess damage and escort." One of the dumpy little tugs pulls off from the formation and starts approaching Valen's TIE.

"Ugh," Valen sighs to himself, flopping back in his seat. After a moment, the shuttle passes, preparing to pull around, but then Valen hears something he doesn't expect. The familiar scream of ion engines resonates through his fighter's hull. Valen leans forward in his seat to see where it's coming from. Peaking around his fighter's broad, hexagonal solar panels, he can see something, like a set of blue daggers. The Alphas have pulled around to the side of Valen's TIE in their fork-winged prototypes. A voice comes in from the comms.

"Theta 4, this is Alpha Squadron. Be advised, do not explode in our vicinity, we are passing." Yudoran and the crooked TIEs speed up and leave Valen to limp back to the Phalanx, the tow shuttle settling behind.

Clips and hooks close over the hull with a rough scrape. The cockpit jerks harshly to one side as the final lock closes. Safely on the rack. The cranes bring Valen's ship out from over the void and towards the access catwalk. The engineers are there waiting, with a crowd of pilots standing behind. As his TIE approaches, Valen sees...smiles? The TIE stops in front of the catwalk and locks into place. The engineers rush to the sides of the ship, and Valen can't wait to get out.

Throwing the dorsal hatch open, Valen climbs out of his ship and onto the catwalk. He turns immediately, looking back to see how the fighter had fared. Valen is overcome for a split second by anxiety as he looks at the battle-scarred TIE. The solar panels are frayed across the aft side, the shattered material cracked all the way up to the main spar. A canyon of melted hull plating is gouged out of the underside of his piloting capsule, warping his port spar. Fried wiring looms hang out of the TIE from underneath. An engineer runs up to the wound and sprays it down with anti-conduction foam. He reaches elbow deep into the material and yanks the wiring harnesses apart so they're no longer connected. No wonder Valen was practically rolling out of control, half the fighter has been fried to bits. Before he has much time to think about it, the other pilots surround him and he is jostled by congratulatory slaps on his shoulders.

"Nice moves out there!"

"Wow, you gotta teach me to fly like that!"

"What's it like shooting down one of those X-Wings?!"

Valen starts to smile as the rookies' congratulations wash over him. He considers starting to talk about how he took down the X-Wing, when a voice interjects, "What happened to your Squadron Leader, Junior Lieutenant Rannix?"

The congratulations stop. Valen looks down over the catwalk. Yudoran and the four other Alpha Elites are standing down on the deck. "Your Captain wants to see you in sickbay." Valen sinks in the stillness of the other pilots. He looks around, and all the pilots are looking at him now. "Now, Rannix," Yudoran says sternly as he walks away with the rest of the aces.

Valen walks into the doorway to sickbay. Among the wounded on beds and in bacta tanks, Captain Darius sits up on his bed with his back to the door, legs hanging over the side. Darius' jumpsuit is pulled down to his waist, exposing a nasty ion burn over his left arm. He is holding an ice pack over his face. Valen hesitates for a moment but then continues. As Valen walks in, he notices that these aren't the only injuries the Captain has sustained. Folund has old scarring streaked across his back. Valen walks around to the side of the bed to face him and stands at attention. After a brief silence, Darius looks up from under his ice pack with his eyes. "Junior Lieutenant."

"Sir." Valen stands, looking straight ahead.

"Son," Darius begins in a warning tone. "You're just a rookie. You split off in pursuit of glory, nearly killing your wingman and Squadron Leader."

"Yes, sir."

"Your Commander back on the Death Star recommended you because you show promise, you have a true Imperial's resolve. But I see now that you have a streak of individuality that can get you into trouble. You gambled with high stakes, putting your leader at risk like that, and I wouldn't recommend doing it again."

"Yes, sir."

"Being a wingman's about trust. It's about following orders."

"...Yes, sir."

"...That being said, it was a good maneuver. Regardless of the costs I may have paid, you took out a Rebel fighter, and you braved a Y-Wing alone to save two of our bombers. If you'd stuck with me, that Rebel scum would have taken both of us out."

Valen stands silently at attention.

"Your bravery to keep the enemy fighters occupied at Sarron has been noted by the mission leaders," he continues. "The contribution helped make the mission a perfect success, and you're to be commended."

"Thank you sir."

"That's fine, son."

"May I speak freely?" Darius raises his greying brows and nods from under his ice pack.

"How was this a perfect success? We lost so many of Theta."

"Our losses were for the good of the mission," Darius says in a tone so robotic and callous that it's almost disturbing. "Not one bomber was lost. For that, the mission leaders have deemed this an amazing victory."

"An amazing victory? You said you would teach us to be aces. You said the grid formations were outdated."

"Our defensive formations were necessary." Darius slowly leans back and lies down in his bed as the medical droid tends to his burn. "It's unavoidable to be assigned shield position for more valuable ships, it happens all the time. For this reason, the Rebs think TIEs are predictable. I use these tactics to our advantage when we fight the Rebel ships. If you paid attention to the enemy movements, you'd notice we surprised and scattered the enemy X-Wings when we broke formation. One X-Wing is dangerous enough, we're lucky we could control the fight so early."

Reluctantly, Valen can now clearly see what transpired during the fight. He remains silent as Darius winces, the droid prodding his burned arm. Darius glares over at the droid, then looks back at Valen.

"As TIE fighter pilots, we're deemed expendable. It's up to us to either prove ourselves worthy of the Emperor's value, or show worth through our sacrifice." Darius leans forward, and pulls the ice pack away from his head to show a massive, crescent shaped cut. It stretches from his cheek down to the corner of his mouth. "We will have victory. One way or the other." He lethargically puts his injured hand up in salute as he leans back once again. "Glory to the Empire, Junior Lieutenant Rannix."

Valen responds immediately with a salute, "Long live the Emperor, sir."

"You're dismissed. Get cleaned up and report back at the Skipper's quarters in an hour."

Valen stands outside a drab grey door in a freshly pressed officer's uniform, his blonde hair fixed and combed to one side. The door has been stenciled, "Capt. Ozzel." Valen stands straight and waits at attention.

"Cover me! Somebody cover me!"

Valen blinks lightly as he feels red flashes in the corner of his eye. He keeps attention as he waits to be admitted to the Skipper's quarters. Valen hears his own heavy breathing ringing in his helmet, though he is not wearing it. He presses his eyelids together and blinks hard to banish the fresh memories. The invasive images fade as Captain Darius walks up and stands at attention next to Valen. Valen looks over and sees Darius in dress uniform. The fresh injury on his face is mended, but will definitely leave a scar. The door hisses open, and they walk into the office.

A lighthearted, gentlemanly voice emanates from behind the desk. "Folund! I see you have a new addition to your 'honors.'" Captain Ozzel, an older man with a clean, reddish blonde mustache, motions at Folund's face as he walks around his desk. His arm swings forward, a gloved hand offering a handshake.

Darius' newly injured face remains stoic as he leans forward, "Skipper," and immediately snaps back to attention.

Ozzel puts on a slightly serious tone. Raising his chin and looking down his nose, Ozzel imparts, "You know I permit all your other 'honors,' Folund, but you will need to have that one removed," nodding at Darius' facial wound. "Can't have you showing that in front of your boys."

Darius' face does not break expression. Without hesitation, he says, "Yes, Skipper. I'll retain the honor in memory."

The Skipper turns his gaze from Darius and slowly strolls over to face Valen. He inquires in a lackadaisical, sing-songy fashion, "And this is the notable one, eh? Well, Theta Squadron could use more fighter pilots like you, well done...uh-for your first combat mission." Ozzel's hands remain behind his back as he inspects Valen. He raises his chin again, pretending to look closely, as if inspecting a race-bred animal. "The Captain tells me you were invaluable in keeping the fighters off of our bombers. A strong head, one that's ready to charge in close, no matter the cost! A quality in battle which I admire."

"Thank you, Captain."

"Ah." Ozzel's chin tucks, and his narrow mustache widens and flattens in a grin. He turns back and addresses Darius. "It will be Admiral soon. After this tour, I am assigned to the Empire's great flagship, the Executor."

"Congratulations, Skipper. To be in command of such a ship is a great honor." Darius speaks with great duty on his voice, as if congratulations are expected, and mandatory. Among the congratulations, Ozzel's face seems blank, the smile oddly empty. His old face is that of prestige and privilege; a gentleman commander.

"Command of the great flagship! Congratulations, Admiral. In such a command, you will be a credit to our Empire." A gruff voice emanates from the doorway behind.

"Ah, my prized Elite!" Ozzel blurts. Valen shudders at the thought and turns, expecting Yudoran's smug face. He is surprised to see someone he has never met. Another tall man with black hair though. His hair is streaked with silver, and recedes slightly. His mouth grins a false grin, his eyes a cold and terrifying green. Valen turns and looks back at Darius just in time to see him finish rolling his eyes. "Well done out there, Captain Antilles, the Marines say they cleared the base with little resistance. Folund, Junior Lieutenant Rannix, you are dismissed," Captain Ozzel says. Following up, as if a father talking down to a child, "Visit a bacta tank immediately, Folund. That's an order."

"Sir," Darius says as he and Valen turn and exit the suite. Valen slightly furrows his brow over the encounter. The two of them walk together down the corridor, the atmosphere quiet once again.

After a fair walk, Captain Darius mutters, "You did well in the face of that."

"Thank you sir, the dress uniform is not really for me...You and the Skipper seem to know each other, have you served together much?" Valen asks formally.

Darius chuckles, "Those exchanges are a farce of friendliness, I can't stand them. If I could, I wouldn't be caught dead under that inept man's command. How he got to where he is is purely political." Valen is surprised by this rather insubordinate statement. They walk in silence a bit further, and Darius continues, "We went to the Naval Academy together, he would steal my notes and copy my work. Eventually he was selected for command schooling."

Surprised, Valen keeps a straight face and risks to pry further. "Perhaps he's shown his worth to our Emperor in the field?"

"He's got his own book of tactics that are, to be honest, largely dimwitted and ineffective. He's a corrupt figurehead, and his new 'command position' will probably involve someone else pulling his strings."

Uncertain of these new claims, Valen states in an accusatory tone, "I didn't expect you to question your superiors, sir."

Darius stops and spins at Valen, who halts and stands at attention in the face of the challenge. Darius stands forward, his close presence intimidating and stern. "There is a great deal you do not know about your Empire."

Valen stands straight and looks ahead, avoiding eye contact. Darius looks like he is about to say something, but then turns and walks down the corridor. His voice emanates as he walks away, "That will be all, Junior Lieutenant."

Valen sits in his bunk, polishing the armor on his black suit as the Phalanx's white noise accompanies him. Each step precise, in order. The caring for one's suit is a pilot's meditation. First, the buffing pad, then the nanofiber cloth. Apply a gentle touch to the goggle portion of the helmet. Systematically, as trained, he runs his finger around the edge of the ocular lens.

"Your vision is your life! You will learn to keep your vision flawless, or you will die blind in your grid, Cadets!"  
"YES SIR!"

The short, assured bark of cadets echoes in Valen's memory. He calls on it every time he maintains his suit.

"You will keep your suit functioning at 100%! You will learn every rivet, every washer on your life support unit or you will give your life for your Emperor before you are ready to kill his enemies!"

"Command, anybody!"

Valen pauses in motion as his thoughts begin to run together. After a moment, he resumes cleaning his visor. Buff the lens, check the breather tubes.

"Your Emperor wants you to kill his enemies, and YOU WILL NOT LET YOUR EMPEROR DOWN! GLORY TO THE EMPIRE!"

"This is Theta 4, I need assistance!"

"LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR!"

Valen stops polishing his flight helmet completely, and the ship hum flows back into his ears. He looks down at the glowering skull, and quietly places it on the bunk beside himself, looking back forward. After a moment, he looks back at the helmet and turns it to one side so it's no longer facing him. Valen leans forward and stares at the opposite bunk, breathing a long breath.

"You almost killed both of us, rookie, try to use your head! Pull around and see if-..."

The crash and fizz of Darius' interrupted comms fades as the door to the quarters hisses open. Ando walks in and sits on his bunk. "Hey, Valen." Ando smiles lightly. "How was the first fight? You really did great." Valen picks up his head and looks back at Andorus. There is something odd about him. His expressions are vacant, his smile is...distant.

"Ando. You alright?"

"I'm good, I'm glad someone did well today..." Ando hesitates awkwardly, like he's working up the courage to say something. "...Sorry I froze up, I'll do better next time-"

"It's alright Ando." Valen looks at his helmet on the bunk. "Nothing went well today. We'll both do better next time." After a moment, Ando quietly lies down in his bunk, and Valen starts cleaning his visor again. They sit in silence as the ship engines churn.

* * *

Chapter II: Nebulous

An electronic claxon rings through the garrison hallway. An announcing officer voice chimes in, echoing off the walls, "Theta Squadron, report to the main hangar bay, Theta Squadron, to the main hangar bay, prep for flight."

The garrison hallway with all of Theta's quarters lights up red above every door. The doors whoosh open automatically, and TIE Pilots start quickly pouring out, some dressed, others half prepped, carrying their effects. Officers in brown uniform start stomping through the crowds of TIE pilots, shouting and hustling them.

"Move, you!"

"This is not a drill, gentlemen, get your suits on!"

Rousting officers. A rough breed, meant to shove soldiers out the doors and into combat. Valen and Ando stumble out of their quarters and start joining the flow of the other pilots down the corridor. Ando is ahead of Valen, and holds his helmet upside down at his side, like he's carrying a bucket of water. Valen holds his helmet under his arm as he reaches back and just finishes clipping his chest piece on over his jumpsuit.

Amongst the shouting, a voice growls from right up close. "I'm sorry I didn't know we were still in Academy, Cadet!" Valen looks over to see a brown jacketed officer stomping around over his shoulder as they march down the hallway. Pointing clearly down at Valen's chest, he scolds, "Hook up that hose, Junior, you wanna breathe, don't you?!"

"Yes sir!" Valen immediately locks the hose into place, connecting his helmet with the life support unit on his chest piece.

"You will keep that suit maintained or-"

"Or I will give my life for my Emperor before I am ready to kill his enemies, sir!"

"Someone still remembers their training!" The browncoat reaches at Valen's life support box on his chest and engages its safety check mode. He throws a heavy hand against the armor on Valen's back. "Keep that hose attached, Junior, you are killing Rebels today!" The officer stomps off. Valen grimaces and shakes off the thought. Exhaling forcefully, Valen slips on his helmet, and then double checks his hose connections.

Captain Darius stands all by himself as the pilots walk onto the flight deck of the hangar. The brown coated officers line up in a row behind the ranks. Darius nods and they file out.

"Theta Group. My congratulations are in order for you on your bombing run. The outpost on Sarron was so nearly obliterated, the Marines had a hard time getting in."

"GLORY TO THE EMPIRE!" the pilots cheer in unison.

"Yes, pilots! Glory to us! We are power! We are the Empire!"

"GLORY TO THE EMPIRE!"

"And further glory awaits us to seize for our Emperor today." The pilots stand in silence, awaiting Captain Darius' brief. "Our bombardment on Sarron has flushed the gutless Rebel dregs out into space. They were so frightened of our might, they had begun evacuating before the assault even started." Darius keeps a stoic face, and says with a bit of humor, "We were going to let them run until they led us to their next outpost, but the Marines do seem to be good for something." The pilots chuckle quietly.

"The data the troops have decoded from the Alliance computers on the outpost will lead us to our next target, and now...we won't have to wait to kill our prey," Darius says with a proud smile. "This mission is just for Theta Group to carry out. We are to cut off, and mercilessly eradicate the retreating Rebel cowards, glory to the Empire."

"LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR!"

"To your ships, gentlemen. You will make your Emperor proud today." The pilots split up and head to the access catwalks as the TIE fighters are lowered. Valen stays behind to join Captain Darius.

"Stick with me, son."

"Yessir," Valen nods quickly, and starts to head to the catwalks. Darius puts a firm hand on Valen's shoulder and makes sure he's looking at him.

"Stick with me."

Valen looks back, taking Darius' meaning. "...Yes, sir."

The TIEs perch above the lake of streaking white light, like hawks preparing to dive. The pilots sit inside, running checklists and testing functions. The ion drives spin up, and the TIEs slowly begin to cry their banshee screams. Valen flips a switch above his head and the pitch in his cockpit starts to rise, his ship joining the chorus. The Phalanx drops out of hyperspace, and the stars go still below once more.

"Theta Squad, we are dropping on my mark." Darius turns and motions through his aft window, holding three fingers up and counting down quickly.

"Three, two, one, mark." The TIEs immediately drop into space. A brilliant purple nebula hangs in the sky in the distance. The TIEs throttle up and follow Darius.

"Rebel targets, dead ahead, Thetas." Up ahead, the Rebel ships are headed straight towards them. Among them are 3 X-Wing fighters, but the rest barely look like military ships. The only identifiable ship is a Rebel GR-75 Transport, and the rest look like civilian freighters and personal ships. The X-Wings hold course, and the rest of the ships turn to fly away from Theta Squadron.

"Theta 4, 22, and 8, you are engaging the X-Wings with me. The rest of you fan out and eliminate the Rebel traitors." The other TIEs pull off and spread out. The X-Wings immediately separate and chase after them, exposing themselves to the attack group. Darius powers up to full throttle and fires on one of them as they turn. Valen follows closely and joins Darius in the attack. Merik and his new wingman chase after the other two.

Darius and Valen concentrate fire on their target, and it shoots a gout of fire as it flies apart, the wings scattering in all directions. Easy.

"You can have that one, Theta 4. Come about and assist Theta 22 and 8, I'm right behind you. We'll prevent even a single casualty this time, Rannix."

"Yes, sir, I'll rendezvous with you at-"

"You're taking lead this time, Rannix. I'll cover you."

Surprised with this new chance, Valen goes for it. "Yes, sir, Theta Lead. Theta 8, 22, we are coming in from your aft starboard side, push them into us and roll off portside to cover."

Darius settles in Valens dorsal window as they apply the maneuver. Merik and his wingman chase the X-Wings out to the right, and Darius and Valen catch them. Valen opens fire, and one of the X-Wings is raked. The other enemy fighter dives away, chased by Theta 8 and Merik. The hit X-Wing trails sluggishly, venting gas from its core. Valen and Darius loop vertically and dive down on it, tearing it to bits in a shower of green light.

Nearly as soon as Valen destroys the X-Wing, the other is blasted away by Theta 8, with Merik following close behind. This was too easy. Training drones put up better fights than this.

"Nice job Thetas, let's move in and finish it," Darius says dutifully. "Theta 4, you stay with me. I'll take it from here."

Valen forms up on Darius. Darius throttles down as they circle and observe the ends of the battle. Valen watches with a slight hesitance as the Rebel transport leans to one side, burning. Escape pods jettison out of the sides and bottom, and are immediately chased down and destroyed by the squadron's TIEs. Valen easily shakes off the thought, reminding himself of the truth.

They're Rebels. Cowardly anarchists.

A pair of shuttles slips through the TIE formations and starts running for the nebula. In clear view of the pair, Darius says, "Rannix, on me. Theta Squadron, clean up the rest, and remove that transport from my sky." The two of them throttle up and head after the Rebel ships. The shuttle in the rear fires backward from an auto turret on its dorsal side. The bolts are small, but harmful, so Valen barrel rolls and dives from above. His cannons fire with a chattering hiss, and the turret collapses, the hull pierced by the green bursts. The vessel explodes without issue; these ships don't have any shields. Valen lines up his sights on the final fleeing shuttle, keeping an eye on the rear laser turret, but it's not firing. He closes distance, and magnifies the display in his visor. There is a gunner in the window, operating the weapon.

He's waiting until I get close enough. I won't give that treacherous scum the chance.

Valen targets the turret, and receives the affirmative beeps from his targeting computer. But he hesitates.

"Sir, there's a child on board."

"Theta 4, I copy, take out the enemy ship."

"Sir, I don't think-"

"Good. Then eliminate the target."

Valen looks down his sights at the Rebel gunner. The boy is terrified, frozen at his controls.

Valen tightens up as Darius shouts into his ear, "Fire your weapon and destroy the target! Before they escape into the nebula! Do it!"

Valen holds.

"DO IT, RANNIX!"

The Rebel ship fires a shot from its turret, the reddish beam shooting right past Valen's ship, between the solar panels. The flash snaps Valen out of it and he fires back once. The bolts of fire go straight through the window, obliterating the boy's image in his visor. Valen looks on in shock as flaming oxygen pours out of the ship, and it rolls lifelessly towards the nebula.

"...Good shot, Rannix. Theta Squadron, report."

"Rebel Transport destroyed, the stragglers have been eliminated. Your sky's clear, Squadron Leader."

"Good work, Thetas. Return to the Phalanx."

The TIEs roost in the scaffolding above the hangar, and the pilots stand on the deck, all smiling and chatting about their victory. Andorus talks with his wingman among other junior officers. Valen stands stiffly, oblivious to the jovial atmosphere, his face pale white. Paralyzing shame shoots through his body over the image of that boy. He doesn't chat, doesn't talk to anyone.

"Theta Group!" Captain Darius jumps out of his ship onto the catwalk above them, and the pilots all stand at attention. Darius pauses and places his hands wide on the railing, a proud smile on his face. "Our team has single handedly removed a Rebel threat from our Empire, you are all worthy of glory."

"GLORY TO THE EMPIRE!" The ranks cheer and raise their helmets above their heads.

"You've all served with Honor and Distinction today, pilots. But one of you has stood out as a formidable and deadly talent." The pilots look among each other. "Junior Lieutenant Valen Rannix. Step forward, son." All eyes turn to Valen as he exits the crowd of pilots. His brow is furrowed. He inhales and straightens up as he walks out and stands at attention.

"Sir!"

"Take a close look, pilots. You are looking at a FIGHTER ACE! Two missions was all it took for Junior Lieutenant Rannix to shoot 5 Rebel ships out of the sky. I want you all to look to Rannix as an example of a fighter with a true Imperial's determination." Darius reaches into a pocket, "Junior Lieutenant Rannix," and tosses a small black box down to Valen. "The mission leaders have given me permission to promote you to Lieutenant." Valen opens the box, and a small, shining Lieutenant's pin sits in ornate black fabric. "Congratulations, Fighter Ace, I look forward to you flying more missions like this with me."

"GLORY TO THE EMPIRE!" All the pilots cheer. Valen remains silent.

"And glory to you, pilots. You are dismissed, get some rest." Darius walks down from the catwalk, and is approached by Valen among the crowd of pilots.

"Captain, may I speak with you?"

"Of course Lieutenant," Darius says out loud with a grin, perhaps assuming an announcement. The pilots quiet down a bit and listen.

"May I speak with you in private, sir?"

Darius looks sideways at Valen. After a pause, "Of course. In my office." Valen and Darius walk out of the hangar while the pilots continue to chat.

"You wanted to see me, son?" Valen and Darius walk into a grey office space with a slightly cluttered desk. A case with medals, and a meticulously folded dress uniform sit to one side on display.

"I wanted to talk to you about the fight today," Valen quietly begins.

"You hesitated. It happens with every inexperienced pilot, you'll learn not to-"

"It was a boy, sir. Just a boy on that shuttle."

Captain Darius' voice becomes serious. "A Rebel boy, son. Never forget that. And you received the honor of Flying Ace today because you stopped him."

Valen feels almost disgusted with being referred to as an ace. Deeply disturbed, he speaks with intensity in his voice, "I didn't know that the Empire kills children for the honor."

"We had our orders, Rannix," Darius replies sternly, sensing tension.

"Captain those orders were wrong! We slaughtered a bunch of boys, where's the honor in that?!"

"Lieutenant Rannix!" Holding his tongue for a moment, Darius stomps over to the door and pounds the console, sealing the office. He quickly marches past Valen and stands in front of him again. Darius fires his words clearly, as if Valen is a child. "That outpost we bombed was a flight school, Lieutenant! YES, the Rebels today were young, but they were being trained to become extremists! Killing machines in starfighters far better equipped than ours!" Darius' rage increases, and his speech speeds up. "If we didn't stem their growth today, those boys would have become an entire enemy fighter wing! You want to let them become accomplished fighters like their teachers on Sarron to satisfy your misplaced sense of 'honor?!'" Valen struggles for a retort. "Get your head on straight, son! That mission wasn't a 'perfect success!' Those teachers nearly killed us all! Six of them!" Darius tries to calm down, but his voice sounds extremely tense. "The mission leaders gave us orders to eliminate the fugitives. I comply because it's my duty to my Emperor to follow orders. If we hadn't killed those boys, our Emperor would throw hundreds of us at them later on until they're worn down."

"Certainly our Emperor-"

"THE EMPEROR DOESN'T CARE ABOUT US, VALEN! WE'RE NOT ELITE!" Once again, Valen is rendered speechless.

"That Rebel Freighter wiped out every one of your unprepared friends in Epsilon, but the Emperor also sent them needlessly to their deaths because of how little he cares about us."

"What?"

"The freighter was being tracked already, son." Hesitating as he sees the expression on Valen's face, Darius expounds further, with a calmer voice. "The attack was to make the Rebels think they'd escaped, word is they're being tracked somewhere 'high priority.'" Valen sinks in attention. The thought rocks him to his core.

How could our Emperor do such a thing?

Darius fades from his aggressive stance, and leans back on his desk as he stands. "We do what's necessary to save the lives of our pilots, and end the war as quickly as possible. Thousands more of us will die unless we show no mercy…We're not evil, Valen," Darius stresses, then slows his lecture as he looks toward his case of medals. Valen catches his expression as it breaks for a moment. "...But we certainly aren't good..." Something shows through the seriousness on the Captain's face. His focus falls from Valen, and he starts to look at the floor. Quietly, he continues, "We kill to survive, Lieutenant." He looks up again with a furrowed brow. "We kill every last Rebel, or we die without our Emperor ever even knowing we existed. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Darius straightens up, adjusting his gear. "I'd hope I don't have to lecture you on this ever again," he says as he walks around Valen, stopping at the door to the office. "For your own good, and mine, let's keep this conversation between us." Darius opens the door and stands by it, speaking clearly as if someone could hear him. "Congratulations on your promotion, Lieutenant, I am very proud of you. You are dismissed."

Valen slowly walks out, and heads down the hallway. He looks around the corridors and they look…foreign to him. A crowd of pilots sit in a room talking about the mission and their kills. Valen blankly walks past the room and enters his quarters. He slowly sits at his bunk, leaning forward, staring at the opposite side, and the door closes.

Folund walks back and sits down roughly at his desk, and gives a heavy sigh to himself. He slouches back, leaning his cheek against his fist. He picks up his head, checking his unscarred cheek, then sets it down again. He stares calmly across the desk, and his eyes fall on the medals in the case. His brow begins to furrow slightly, his breathing growing heavy. Pressing his lips tightly together, Folund glares through the glass at his medals. His expression twists, and he clamps his eyes shut.

* * *

Chapter III: Flying Blind

Drifting among the stars, surrounded by the black void, the hum of engines envelop Valen like a loving embrace. Quiet. Nothing but him and the stars, just like back home. It feels like so long ago he was looking up at the stars. Hard to remember the last time. He was standing with…..Father….Mother? No, it was Father. They were standing in the garden of the estate. It was beautiful. Green plants with brilliant orange flowers in the garden, bathing in the Rannix family's own yellow sun. A band of asteroids stripes the sky in the distance. Valen and his father toast and stand together, men of the household. Out the corner of his eye, Valen feels a grey shape. It pulls at him, pulls him back.

His father raises his glass to Valen, "Honor and Distinction to our family. Your mother and I are so proud of you." The starfield seems odd, dizzying. The sky around Valen seems to shrink. Valen looks down at his drink and sees himself wearing his Naval Academy uniform under the night sky. The faint murmur of other voices can be heard. The voices start to move forward in his mind, like uninvited friends. "Valen? Are you alright?" Father's voice becomes faint, like someone from across the room. Valen strains, but can no longer see his father's face. The grey shape forms a line as it pulls from his periphery, and starts to grab his attention. The greens and oranges of the manor's plants begin to desaturate. So hard to remember. Another grey shape pushes from the other side, closing around him. The stars all around begin to shrink, the infinite void that surrounds him turning from a field to a hallway. Valen looks down at his feet. His boots stand firmly on drab plating, artificial gravity pulling them down.

Valen looks back up, and is standing at a window on the observation deck of the Phalanx. Officers and crew members stand about on leave, chatting. Lost, Valen looks around himself. Aware of where he is, but not responsive. He continues to stare out at the stars, as if trying to will the memories back.

"Hey, Valen." Ando appears next to him and leans forward on the railing, looking out the window. It's as if he were there the whole time, waiting for Valen to come back from home.

"Hey, Ando." They stand in silence, staring out the window. The hum gets louder and starts to wash over Valen again.

"Man. A fighter ace. You've got talent, Valen-ahem...Lieutenant Rannix." Ando says, giving Valen a playful shove in the shoulder. Valen breaks his attention to the stars, and looks over at Ando. Ando is standing there, comically saluting him with a smirk.

Valen's serious face cracks for the first time since he came aboard. "Haha, get outta here, man! Don't salute me!"

"No-can-do, Ace Lieutenant Rannix!" Ando steps backward, holding his goofy salute as Valen tries to push him. Valen turns around from the window and leans back on the railing, grinning.

"I bet you never thought we'd be here, huh, Ando?"

"What, chasing down the Rebels? Wiping them out as they flee from their outposts? The Captain really thinks we're doing well!" Valen's face starts to turn serious again as Ando continues. "Soon we'll be unstoppable, Valen." Ando starts to look back out the window, upwards at the stars. "Ace fighters, all of us. Defending our Emperor's will." He looks back at Valen. "We'll be bringing order to the chaos, Valen. Stopping the violence and death by uniting our galaxy. Just like the Emperor promised."

Valen stares blankly at Ando. After a moment, he responds, "No." A little baffled, Ando tries to think of something to say, and then Valen continues, "I mean having scrubs like you salute me."

"Oh-AHEM!" Ando immediately snaps to attention and starts saluting again, and they start laughing uproariously. They walk out and head down the corridors.

"Seriously though, Valen. You're blasted amazing out there. The other guys in the Theta Regulars are talking about you."

"Yeah?" Valen says, still grinning over the goofing off.

"Well yeah! They're all wondering when you'll be giving us tips on how to become fighting aces like you!"

"Heh," Valen gives a subtle laugh. After a moment of silence from Ando, Valen asks, "You OK?"

Ando keeps a slight smirk, trying to shrug it off, "...Valen….I've been on the missions, same as you. But I haven't taken down a single Rebel yet."

"That's fine, man. We're only two missions in, it's not so-"

"Well maybe for you, you're racking up the kills like there aren't gonna be any left." The frequently chatty and goofy Ando looks down at the floor as they walk. "I'll be honest, Valen. I dunno how good a pilot I really am. If I'll be brave enough to defend the battle station when we get back." Valen can feel heavy disappointment in Ando's voice. "...I froze up at Sarron. Haven't had anyone to talk to about it. Lieutenant Ryth died right in front of me, and with that X diving towards-…..I thought I was next."

"It was smart of you to do. You went blaster to blaster with an X-Wing, Ando. It would be empty-headed to keep at it, you would have ended up dead."

"I'm supposed to follow my orders, I'm a coward for running. Putting the bombers in danger to save my own skin."

"We need to stay alive so we can defeat the Rebels for our Emperor, Ando. There's no glory for you to die flying head on at an enemy fighter." Ando slows down and takes a deep breath, and Valen puts his arm over his shoulder and jostles him. "When you're in the right place, you'll know."

"Yeah I guess. You were in the right place to take him out, that's for sure." Ando starts to grin sheepishly.

"What," Valen says, knowing a joke is coming.

"You should probably thank me. If I hadn't let you have that fighter, you wouldn't be an Ace Lieutenant yet."

"Heh, well that's true then, isn't it?!" Valen takes an upright stance and salutes at Ando. "Thank you, sir, for the opportunity!" He and Ando trade mock salutes as they walk down the corridor.

"Glory to the Empire, Lieutenant Rannix!" Another voice emanates from behind them. The massive shadow of Yudoran Antilles stands in a doorway as they pass. They stop and turn around.

"Long live the Emperor, Lieutenant Yudoran," Valen says dutifully.

Ando follows with a meek, "Long live the Emperor, sir."

Yudoran walks up to the two of them with his hands clasped behind his back. The closer he gets, the taller he seems. "Junior Lieutenant Merik. Thank you, you are dismissed."

"Uh, sir," Ando squeaks, and turns around with his eyes lowered. "See you around, Valen-"

"Junior Lieutenant! I can let slide your constant disrespect for our Imperial salute, but you must address your superior by rank."

Ando sinks. "Yes, sir. Am I dismissed, Lieutenant Rannix, sir?"

Valen quietly says, "That's fine, son," before even thinking, as if Captain Darius is speaking through him. Ando walks away quickly. Valen turns back and faces the Elite Officer. "Yudoran."

"You may be a Lieutenant now, Rannix. You may be an Ace. But that doesn't make you or any of your other 'Regs' equal to the Elite. Address me by rank, boy."

Valen stands firm in the face of this obvious power trip. "Lieutenant Antilles."

Yudoran's mouth slams shut, and Valen can hear him take a deep breath through his nose as if he were trying to steal all the oxygen on the Phalanx. He intensely exhales, and then violently leans forward. "You listen to me, you insubordinate-"

"Lieutenants!" A gravelly, rough voice booms from behind Yudoran, who turns around with a start. Both of them snap to attention. The tall man with silver streaks in his hair walks down the hallway toward them.

"Sir!"

"Fa-Sir!" A puzzling tying of Yudoran's tongue eeks out of his mouth.

Thinner than him, but just as tall, the man walks up in a frightening stark black uniform. Who is he? He approaches much the same as Yudoran did, with hands clasped behind his back. Contrary to Yudoran's facade, however, this man is truly intimidating. He stops and stands like a stone pillar. Slowly, his eyes turn towards the Elite Lieutenant. "...Lieutenant Yudoran."

"Yessir!" Yudoran looks petrified.

"That will be all, boy."

"Yessir-..Sir!" Yudoran spins like a top and marches away.

Now alone in the corridor with Valen, the officer walks to one side as Valen stands at attention. He stares at Valen, inspecting him with piercing green eyes, his movements regal, frightening. He has a look about him like a beast with its prey. A flash of red on the black uniform catches Valen's attention. He turns his eyes to see, only to have his gaze met quickly, almost before he even looked, by a black gloved hand, one finger up in the air. The finger slowly motions, and points in front of Valen.

"Eyes front, Lieutenant Rannix."

Valen snaps back to full attention. "Sir."

Slowly, the man circles back in front of Valen, and turns to face him. "Lieutenant Valen Rannix. On loan from the Death Star Epsilons, recently promoted in the Reg squad Theta. Commended on the accounts involving our latest missions to flush the Rebels out of the outpost moon of Sarron, and the proceeding mission to pursue and wipe the scum out of our skies at the Vuiros Nebula."

"Yes, sir, that's correct, sir."

The man straightens up and lifts his chin, as if to adjust the fit of his collar. "Do you know who I am, boy?" His voice feels like it emanates from the floor.

"Yes, sir. We've met before."

The man's black brow reaches towards his receding hairline.

"At Captain Ozzel's office, Captain Darius and I-"

"I believe you. Continue." The once inquisitive brow drops back down from his forehead and flattens over his frozen green eyes once more.

"Yes sir. You are Captain Antilles, Squadron Leader of the Alpha Prototype Flight Group."

With a growl in his voice like a Krayt Dragon, he slowly says, "Terrus Antilles." His name rumbles with a hiss. "I captain the Elite Alphas. We are aces, all."

"Yes, sir."

Captain Antilles stands tall. He stares for a moment, and then inquires quickly, "You are a newly christened ace, are you not?"

"I am, sir."

"Good," he speaks at his own pace. Valen stands silently, awaiting whatever he says next. "Honor and Distinction is an opportunity, not a right when you join our Emperor's Navy. Stand and be counted, boy. That will be all."

"Yes s-"

"Dismissed."

Valen spins in place and marches off down the hall, eager to exit the situation. As he turns the corner, he blasts out a sigh of relief, only to be immediately cut off. He walks past Yudoran, who has been standing and waiting. Yudoran's eyes are on the floor as they pass each other without a single word.

"Squadrons." Captain Darius addresses the pilots as they stand at attention on the floor of the main hangar. "Today is a fast strike mission. The location of the new Rebel outpost is deep in the Morku Asteroid Belt; an old mining area. This asteroid belt is perilous, and places the advantage in the hands of the enemy. It will test your skills in flight, organization, and awareness. The high concentrations of dense minerals will limit the range of our comms equipment greatly, so once you're in, all you have is Theta. It's a requirement that you follow orders, and stick with your leaders. This is not a suggestion. Honor and glory do not come by way of 'flying rock,' gentlemen, much less a cowardly Rebel trap. Likely there will be plenty with so much obstructing our sensors." The ranks stand in silence. There is an expected unease at the mention of a trap.

Captain Darius continues with a noticeable detachment. "Navigating the Phalanx into the belt has been deemed an 'unnecessary risk.' Theta Group will deploy outside the belt, and traverse to the interior. We will call out and mark any traps we see on the way in, contain the enemy, then send for the bombers to finish them off. Although I'm sure we all enjoyed hunting the scum down as they ran, Captain Ozzel's stated he doesn't want to tie up his cruiser chasing down Rebel escapees again." The pilots break their tension a bit and chuckle at the joke. "Keep your groups tight, don't get separated. Let's burn this rock to glass and come back to celebrate. Dismissed."

Theta begins to break up and head to their ships. As he walks with Merik, Valen can see the line of bomber pilots, who seem to be acknowledging them as they walk past. A nod here, a head turn there.

"Told you they've been talking about you, Valen," Ando interjects as he bumps Valen in the shoulder.

Valen looks out his cockpit window at Captain Darius as the TIEs swivel on their moorings above the lake. The streaks of white light shine on the foreboding black helmets from underneath.

"Alright, Theta Squad. I want some more aces to be born today. Stick with your leaders and make me proud, gentlemen." The TIEs stop pivoting and lock into place with a precise thunk.

Here we go again.

The streaks of light go still, and the whistle blows. Darius shouts into the comms, "Glory to the Empire!"

"LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR!" The TIEs all shoot downwards out of the hangar bay, and throttle ahead.

"To starboard, 60 degrees, Theta Squad. On my mark...mark." Banking to starboard, the field comes into full view. Mountainous boulders fill Valen's cockpit window. "Throttle up, gentlemen, we have a very specific window through the less populated areas of this mass."

Another pilot's voice rings into the comms. "We're flying into this?"

"Cut the chatter, 23, and keep your formations tight, it'll save your life. Stay alert and move together on my marks, squadron."

As they get closer, the jagged rock begins to fill Valen's dorsal window as well. Valen remembers training simulations of asteroid fields. It was a failing course. 70% survival rate. Perilous, only for the advanced students. Even still, there were no tests where you navigate a field under fire.

The gigantic brown and grey boulders start to close around them in Valen's aft window, as if the field is swallowing them whole. Out the front window, they are headed towards a mountain of shale-like stone. An asteroid so large Valen swears he sees a thin atmosphere around it. The fighters crowd inward around his cockpit windows, huddled in by the closing rocks. Valen comms to Ando on a private channel, "Stick close to us, Ando. I don't like this."

"Me neither, buddy."

"Thetas, 50% throttle, 30 degrees down angle on my mark." The giant asteroid fills the window, blocking the system's dim white star. "Mark. Keep on me squad. Theta 35, throttle down." A TIE has broken ahead. It falls back and rejoins the group.

"Keep it tight, squad. It gets tougher from here on out. Keep the channel clear and await my orders." The horizon moves over them as they fly under the giant asteroid. It's disorienting, as if they are flying planetside upside down. After a while, the sun starts to peek out from underneath. Nearly out from under this thing.

"Squad, take evasive action, break 40 degrees port NOW!" Darius' TIE brakes hard and pulls left and down. Another asteroid pulled in by gravity falls upward in front, rushing towards the squadron. They bank and pitch downward, sticking as close as they can to Darius. It's as if they're flying blind. The mountains crash together and crack to pieces, throwing fast moving boulders back at Theta Squad.

"Starboard 30 degrees, throttle up squad!" Darius' TIE banks right and rushes ahead, accelerating to combat speed. "Keep it ti..ht and form up, we're losin...windo-..." Darius is flying off, getting smaller in Valen's window. The comms from Darius are starting to die out as the squad falls behind. Is the field causing interference already? Valen throws his fighter into high speed and accelerates after him.

"Squadron, keep close on me and catch up with Squad Leader, accelerate to combat speed!"

"Roger, Ace, we're with you."

"Form up on me, single file." The TIEs line up behind Valen. Accelerating, they dip and dodge around the flying debris and start catching up. Darius can be seen again, and his comms are starting to become more audible.

"Sq-d, catch up quic-.. We're going to miss th- ..-ndow!"

"There he is, squad. Throttle up and head through the clearing to Theta Lead."

Suddenly a fast moving piece of rock comes flying in and splits the line down the middle, striking and obliterating one of the fighters. The squadmates shout and yell into their comms.

"WATCH IT, 27!"

"Theta 15's down!"  
"Evading to starboard!"

The back end of the line pulls away and scatters to evade the boulder. It doesn't take long before their communications start breaking up. Looking ahead, Valen can see he and the front of the line are close enough to meet back up with Darius. "Merik, stick with the front team and rendezvous with Theta Lead, I'm going back to pick up the rest!"

"I'm sticking with you, Valen, let's get them back!" Ando is not this kind of pilot. The uncharacteristic bravery in the face of this asteroid field is worrying. The front team splits off and goes to catch up with Darius, and Valen zips back around to retrieve the scattered fighters with Merik.

"Keep close, Ando," Valen warns. In the distance, the scattered fighters flit and flick about, evading the asteroids, but not getting anywhere. They're just buying time. As Valen and Ando get closer, the panic of the pilots can be heard.

"Watch out, Orryl, you've got one on your port side, low!"

"These blasted rocks are too fast, I'm in a bad spot here!"

"Where's Marsh?!"

"Keep to port side, Drezdel, you almost hit me!"

"Does anyone see Theta Lead?!"

Orderly and concisely, just like he's heard from from the Captain, "Thetas, on me and Merik, I am passing on coordinates 1 dash 4, decimal 6-7. Single file. Stand by for orders as we pass."

"Roger, Lieutenant!"

Valen and Ando zip past each of the fighters, giving orders on each of them how to meet up. "Theta 43, pull around to the left, I see a clearing to your 11 o'clock, pull up, meet with me and fall in, single file. Theta 27, bank right, meet with Theta 8, 16, and 24, form up on me through the clearing at my coordinates. We're rendezvousing with Squad Leader, the mission is still on."

"Roger, Lieutenant. Let's kill some Rebels." Valen and the back group pull single file through the asteroids and head towards Darius, but keep getting cut off from him and the front group. Up and down, forward and back. They can't make it. After a while, they get just within range to hear Captain Darius buzzing through the comms.

"Stay your heading, Lieutenant, it's not worth it. There's a clear path from there to the Rebel outpost, Theta Squad will rendezvous at the target."

"Copy, Theta Lead, we'll meet you there."

"I'm assigning you a temporary squadron callsign; Sigma. They're your pilots for now, keep them alive, Rannix."

"Copy, sir. This is Sigma Lead, follow on my heading. We're rendezvousing with Theta at the target."

"We're on you, Lieutenant." The squadrons split and head down their respective paths, darting in and out of the densely packed hunks of cosmic rock. They make it into their cleared "window" area, and are finally able to fly straight again. The base is visible ahead of them. They head down the corridor of floating rocks towards it. As they get closer, Valen can see industrial bits of the outpost peek out from under rocky outcroppings on a mountainous asteroid. Sparse bits of rock fall on the surface as if the base were under constant bombardment already.

How could those Rebels do anything from in this awful place?

"Squadron Lead," Ando's voice fizzles in the silence of the asteroid field.

"Merik, I copy. Go ahead."

"I'm reading nothing from the base up ahead. They look powered down."

Valen has to agree, the sensors read nothing. Stay vigilant. The asteroid field has been playing with their comms and sensors. Got to stay vigilant. "Keep your eyes open, squad. Watch for enemy fighters and traps."

They keep watch as they approach. Sigma 24 chimes in, "No visuals on enemy activity. No traps. No nothing, Sigma Leader."

The outpost gets closer in the cockpit viewport. The pilots keep swiveling their heads around, keeping an eye out for any explosives, laser traps, or anything. Nothing. They circle the base and look down on it. The windows are dark, the base looks empty. Some of it has already received damage from the constant barrage of the asteroid field.

Valen purses his lips together and sighs slowly out his nose. Darius and the Thetas can be seen in formation and circling ahead, above the base. Through the channel, he hears the Captain again. "Sigma Leader, do you read?"

"I read, Theta Leader. The base looks abandoned."

"Agreed, this base is cold. There would at least be a shield up to protect from these collisions. The outpost is probably evacuated." Darius gives the news the whole squadron was hoping they wouldn't hear after all this. What a letdown. This mission was a waste. Losing Theta 15 like that, half of Theta nearly getting lost in the field. "Fan out with your team and check the surrounding areas. Watch for any traps they may have left behind and mark them." Darius hisses the comms with a big sigh. "I'm giving the all-clear. Heading out to call in the bomber groups. We'll rendezvous above the base and you can head back to the Phalanx." Darius and his flight of Thetas pull in and pass over the base one more time, and then head out, while Valen directs Sigma Squadron to circle wider around the outpost.

Valen and Sigma comb through the more orderly surrounding asteroids, keeping their eyes peeled. It's been awhile since Captain Darius and the Thetas left to retrieve the bomber groups. The once tense and anxious pilots make themselves known now through sporadic yawns over the commlinks.

"See anything, Merik?"

"Nothing, Valen." Ando says casually as he starts snaking his TIE over and under a series of slow moving asteroids. "I'm bored looking at these rocks. You?"

"Nothing yet, don't get too far though. The interf- wait. I'm reading something." Valen squints at a dim blip on his sensors, then looks out his cockpit ahead of them. Nothing but rocks floating in front.

"I don't have any readings, Sigma Lead."

"Switch your scanner to setting B, I have a funny reading. Can't get good coordinates on it. Checking thermals." Valen keeps switching attention between his readouts and looking out his cockpit window, lest he miss anything. He sits in front of the area of rocks while he waits for the thermal readings to complete. The TIE's sensors aren't exactly up to snuff all the time. In Valen's experience, it's usually best to just look out the window. The thermal readings come in, and Valen then starts scanning the rocks out his window with laser focus.

"Something's definitely here, Sigmas. Pick up your visual scanning and check thermals, something's generating heat-". All of a sudden, a red and white strobe of light flashes in front of them. A ship! Valen is surprised he could miss it! In a burst of speed, the flat, wide vessel rushes off.

"Unidentified ship, twelve oclock! A spy! Squadron, engage!" The TIEs throttle up and chase after it.

"Theta Squadron, do you copy? Unidentified ship in sector two, Sigma Squadron's in pursuit. Theta Squad, do you copy?! We are in pursuit of an unidentified ship, sector two!" Nothing. "Sigmas, we're on our own. Merik, stick close to me, we're circling left. Sigma 8, reassign as 27's wingman, you two head down the middle. 16 and 24, up over the top, heading uploaded to your nav. Target the engines only, I want the spy alive."

"Copy Lead!"

The spy ship is a blur of orange engine flares as it darts in between the rocks and heads away from the base. This pilot has talent, but is stuck looking for an escape route. The moves are lightly telegraphed and fall in line with what Valen can predict. The spy is looking for a clear spot on the edge of the field to escape to lightspeed. Valen follows with his team. Their TIEs are catching up. This is what these ships do; superior speed and maneuverability. For the first time in a while, Valen feels good about his fighter. Finally, an advantage one to one.

Valen catches up in a clearing and can see the spy ship to his starboard side, like a silver and white half disc. No rear facing weapons, that's good. They're flailing a bit, darting around, dodging green flashes from two TIEs behind. If they can keep the pressure on, they run a low risk of return fire from the spy ship. Up through his dorsal window, he can see a pair of his TIEs up above and gaining ground. They are closing the trap.

"Keep it tight and close the door on him. We've almost got the spy, Merik, keep at it and we'll-"

"I see an opening, I'm engaging!"

"Ando, wait!" Before he can stop him, Ando cuts to starboard through a hole in the dense, rocky cloud and starts firing. The mystery ship banks to the right, and Ando chases it. Right out of the trap and towards an empty spot.

Forced to adapt the plan, Valen shouts to the others, "8, 27! Get after him! 16, 24! Keep watch from above and stay on that ship! Do not let it out of the belt into the clearing!" Valen frantically looks for an opening, and spots one. Risky, but doable. No time to be smart, gotta get in there! Valen pulls hard to the right and just makes it through, only to meet another rock, flying head-on at him. Valen breathes in sharply and jerks backward on his controls. The responsive fighter flips up over the rock and into a clearing.

"Blast it, Ando, you better not get us killed!"

"I've g-t him! Catc-..ng up!"

Valen can see from above Ando chasing the mysterious ship out into another area, semi clear, filled with small rocks. The spy ship's shields hold as the bits of rock ping and bounce off, but Ando's unshielded TIE fighter gets battered by the dust as he rushes in. His TIE slows to a crawl, and starts losing ground on the spy ship. Something is wrong. Small bits of sparkling matter are coming from the cockpit area. The solar panels look tattered and damaged.

"...I'v- got a probl-m here."

"What's wrong?"

"One of thos r-..ks hit me in th- co-kpit...d-maged contr-ls. Slugg-sh thr-...tle. Hit my -... mask. Ca-n't see ver- well-... I'm losing air, Val-n! Wh-t do I -...?"

"I'm coming Ando, hold on!"

The squadron in chase call out, "Sigma Lead, the ship is headed to a clearing!" Valen hesitates.

"Sigma L-..., they're goi-...get aw-y!" The signal is breaking up already as the distance opens between them.

"Blast it, Ando!" Valen says under his breath. He clicks back on the comm, "Merik, see if you can set down on that asteroid at 2.35, we will come back and pick you up, stand by. I'm engaging the ship."

"Valen!"

Valen throttles up and dips under the denser material, blasting off after the spy from beneath. "Sigma 16 and 24, throttle up into that open spot and get ahead of him. Push him down towards me at 2.76, that's the next nearest clear area. Do NOT let him hit lightspeed out of those clearings!"

"Roger, Lead." Valen is catching up now, watching from underneath as two TIEs chase and fire at the ship. Up in the distance above, 16 and 24 are breaking out in front.

"Dive on my mark..." The spy ship dodges and weaves around. It's coming up on a clear path downwards, right towards Valen if this goes right. "Mark!"

The TIEs behind slow down, and the ones on the top dive on the spy ship. The ship evades and dodges downwards, through the clear aisle.

"I have you now, Rebel scum."

The spy ship dives right in front of Valen and starts to pull up. Valen rakes the ship across the engines. There is a bright flash of sparks, and bits of hardware start to strip off the stern of the ship. After some fizzling, the bright orange glow goes dim, and then dark. The other TIEs catch up and surround the disabled ship. Valen opens a global channel.

"Unidentified ship. You are now a prisoner of the Galactic Empire. You will stand down or be destroyed." On the tactical channel, Valen can hear quiet cheers and hurrahs from the squad mates.

The TIEs fly in formation around a white shuttle from the asteroid belt. The inverted Y shape the wings make is both elegant and utilitarian. On the way back to the Phalanx, Ando comms with Valen from the shuttle.

"Sigma Lead."

"I copy, Ando. You alright in there?"

"Yeah. Guess I left a permanent resident out in the belt."

"Haha, the belt will always have something to remember you by. I'm sure they'll get you another ship."

Bright blue flashes light up the asteroid field. One of the Sigmas joins in. "Woo! Burn that base to dust, Betas!"

"That's right, Sigma Squad. Captain Darius won't let those fat bombers come back until they've dropped every bit of their payload on that base. Ando, keep that spy warm for us, we're heading in."

"Copy, Lieutenant Rannix."

The TIE pilots jump out of their fighters and head over to Valen. The frightening black skull helmets come off, revealing shabby hair and smiles. They run up to Valen's catwalk and bombard him with congratulations.

"Nice flying out there, Ace!"

"You really saved our butts!"

"Where'd you learn to fly like that?!"

Valen just laughs and says, "Haha, well my family lived near an asteroid belt. I used to steal the family shuttle and race through it." A small brag. Why not. They laugh and slap Valen on the back, asking for a breakdown of how he trapped the spy. They stop on the lower deck and watch the shuttle come in, folding its lower wings upward like a bird as it lands gently. The congratulations quiet down as the ramp is lowered under the cockpit. The pilots watch in silence. Valen looks out across the hangar bay and sees the Alphas, who look on from afar as well. Captain Antilles stands among them in his dreaded black officer's uniform.

A red haired woman is being held from under the arms by a pair of giant stormtroopers, her feet dragging on the deck. Her hanging head begins to lift. She looks...very intriguing. Her hair is tussled, and hangs over her face. Deep blue eyes look out from under it as she stares at the pilots in a daze.

"I didn't know the Rebels were so desperate that they recruited women!" One of the pilots says with a scoff. The rest start to laugh.

Valen puts on a soldier's face while the woman is dragged out of the hangar. "Too bad such a nice looking girl's Rebel scum. She'll be tortured here until she gives up everything she knows. We lost Naden to the field looking for those Rebels today. She better make it worth it."

"Yeah, but we didn't lose Merik! Look at this nerfherder!" The pilots look over as Ando comes walking casually down the ramp from the shuttle and heads over towards them. Ando has a bandage over his head, covering his eye. He doesn't get very close before he's stopped by medical personnel. The pilots laugh as he's pushed off to sickbay. Valen watches after him.  
"Keep around here and wait for Captain Darius to return from the escort."  
"Yessir." Valen walks off deck.

"No, I'm telling you, I'm fine!" Valen walks into sickbay to see Ando from the back. He's standing in his jumpsuit with his arms out to either side. The medic and his droid are scanning Ando up and down, turning his head from side to side. The medic looks through his case of tools and reaches back with his hand, rapping his knuckles on the chest of the medical droid. The droid looks at him, and he motions toward Ando, like the droid should know. The barely humanoid face mechanically moves forward and points a limb at Ando, shining a small light into his eyes.  
"Look here, please," the droid says in a calm, metallic voice.  
Ando flinches and puts a hand up, slapping the limb to one side. "Look, it's alright, I can see fine!" Valen looks down at Ando's helmet, and there is a nasty scratched dent in the right side of the face mask. The reinforced lense is cracked. Valen quickly walks around in front to check on him.

Ando continues to stand for inspection with his chin up, looking forward. He looks to the side and greets Valen. "I told them I'm fine, Valen. They won't believe me."

"Hands behind your back, sir. Let's have a look."

"I'm fine," he insists stubbornly. The medical droid holds a piece of cloth under Ando's chin as blood trickles down his face. The medic moves a pointed finger back and forth in front of Ando's face, and he looks at it. His right eye has blood in it, the lens cloudy and red.

"Well, bacta doesn't work miracles, sir. Just trying to figure out what we're gonna do about this."

"Fix him up good, we need him for new flights," Valen says optimistically.

"The Empire's certainly not hurting for resources, sir." The medic dives back into his case and pulls a small, thin red box out. "Officers get priority treatment, of course." He pulls a small device from a slot on the box and speaks clearly into it. "Junior Lieutenant Andorus Merik. Serial number…..umm…. TI-2249-42-008." A tiny light turns on; red for a moment, then green. He places the device back into the slot, and the box unlocks itself with a little click.  
"Now, hold very still, sir." The droid watches as the medic pulls a thin disc of translucent material from a small, shallow pool inside the box, using a tiny set of thongs. "This stuff is very expensive. Lean your head back for me, sir." Ando complies, and the medic places it over his eye, gently pushing parts of the material down with the tool. The medic says under his breath, "Ohhhh….kay, that looks good. Now you just-DON'T MOVE, SIR." Ando had begun to lean back forward, and the medic stops him by both shoulders. Valen jolts slightly, as if moving to help, but the medic has it under control. "Keep your head tilted back and stand still, sir."

"Okay, then what?" Ando asks, embarrassed and impatient.  
The medic leans over Ando's upturned head and stares closely at his eye. The material is beginning to go transparent. "Well, you should start getting your vision back, and then I'll put in a request to dunk you in some of the good stuff." The medic closes up the box and puts it back in the case, then goes back to inspect Ando's eye one last time. The eye looks wet, like it's just been doused in salve. The tissue around is still dark and red, but the cloudiness inside Ando's eye is starting to clear up.

"I'll need a bacta tank after this?" Ando says, surprised.  
"You nearly went blind. It's good we got you back on board when we did, sir, or you'd have no sight left at all in your right eye…...It's all looking alright now. I'll put in an order and come back in a moment. Try not to shake your head around or anything." The medic clips together his case and salutes the two of them, and walks briskly out of the room. Valen and Ando stand in silence together.

"Valen, I-"

"Lieutenant." Valen puts on the stoic face of a superior officer.  
"...Lieutenant Rannix, sir."

"You ditched me during a maneuver to go chase the target on your own, Merik."  
"I saw an opening, I'm sorry. I thought I could-"  
"We had her trapped, and now you're here, nearly blinded, your ship abandoned out in that asteroid field. I'm told it's too dangerous to tow it back. I needed you to be a good wingman, and to follow orders."  
"You didn't follow orders. You followed your instincts on Sarron, you made a call and saved-"  
"I got lucky, Ando-...Junior Lieutenant. I nearly killed our Captain and left the mission leaderless. It was especially crucial that you follow orders this mission. Not doing so cost you your ship, nearly cost you an eye, and the Rebel spy."

Ando sighs. "Yes, sir."  
After a moment, Valen breaks his upright stance, and stands at ease. "Ando, let's speak freely, no doubt you'll hear the same speech from the Captain anyway. I'm glad you made it out of there. You alright?"  
"Yeah, I'm fine, Valen."  
"You were brave out there, man. It was scary how brave you were."  
"You're brave, Valen. I was too brave. There's a difference." Ando turns his head up sideways towards Valen, looking at him with his good eye. "I just really wanted to be the hero this time. Didn't pan out so well, I guess."

"I think there's something to it, Ando. When you're motivated, it seems bravery comes to you naturally."  
"Yeah?"

"Although there's a fine line between being brave and getting stupid." They both chuckle, shaking off the seriousness of the mistake.

The medic appears back in the doorway. "Sirs. Junior Lieutenant, time to go."

"Next time, Ando."

"Yeah. Next time." Ando gets up, and the medic leads him out the door. Valen stands in the room after they've gone, and picks up Ando's helmet. A ring of blood lays on the white sheets where the helmet sat. The damage to the helmet is extensive. It's obvious it won't be used again. Valen stares into the broken lens. Tension starts to show in his eyes, a slight anxiety. He can hear the breath in his nose as it pushes out in a sigh. He picks up the end of the sheets and slowly starts to polish off the cracked piece. After a moment, Valen continues to clean the cracks and crevices in the mask, beginning to scrub at the scraped portions. His breathing grows louder in his own ears, and he can hear the roar of the academy instructors again.

"Glory to the Empire!"  
"LONG LIVE-"

"Lieutenant Rannix." Valen looks up suddenly to see Junior Lieutenant Dryll Marsh, from his temporary Sigma Squadron.

Valen puts the helmet back on the bed. "Marsh, what is it?"  
"Captain Darius wants to talk to you right away."

"I'll be right-" Captain Darius walks into the doorway. Valen snaps to attention. "Captain Darius, sir."

Darius nods to Marsh, walking in as Marsh departs. "You've done well, Valen. You've made me and Theta Squadron more proud than you realize."

"Sir?"  
"I've just gotten out of a meeting with command. Your spy had some incriminating evidence on her ship; a high security nav computer from the outpost. She didn't hesitate to divulge that there were important Rebel secrets in it."  
"Sounds like a crummy spy to me, giving up secrets like that so quickly."  
"Well, she says she isn't. Says she's just a freelancer, scavenging the base."

"Do you believe that?"  
"It doesn't matter what I believe, the Empire says she's a spy. She'll be imprisoned until she gives up any other secrets. What's important was on the computer. There are coordinates on it."

"Well, we've gotten coordinates from the last outpost, it's nothing new. Should lead us to the next one, right?"  
"The computer has shipping data, yes, but it's the type of data we've extracted that's different. We've found that the outposts exchange between each other a little, but the data shows a major hub in the Yavin System. Troops, weapons, ships; they all go through this point much more than directly to each outpost." Darius leans in with a grin, and puts a hand on Valen's shoulder. "Valen. I think you just found us the Rebel Base." Darius holds his smile, picking his hand up and dropping it on Valen's shoulder again. Valen stands in shock, trying to comprehend the impact this could have. Darius quickly says, "Command wants me to come get you and bring you to them personally."

* * *

Chapter IV: Yavin

Darius and Valen march swiftly through the corridors and arrive back at Captain Ozzel's office. The guards stand aside, and the door opens immediately for them. Valen sees a group of officers standing around Ozzel's desk, the Skipper standing behind it. Captain Antilles sits in a silver chair, and Commander Ferros from the bomber squads stands up as they enter. The door closes behind them with a hiss.

"Captain Darius, what luck you have to be given such a gifted pilot!" Ozzel stands up straight and walks around his desk with great jubilance. He throws a hand out at Darius' and shakes it vigorously. Before Valen knows it, Ozzel has moved to one side and snatched his hand, clasping it between both of his. "You've done well, son! By now, I'm sure Captain Darius has stolen my thunder and told you all about it, but we're working on boosting our long range comms to send this news right away. This could mean another promotion for me!" Making no attempt to hide his motives, the reason he is so pleased is as plain as day. He stands up straight, stretching his mustache as wide as it will go in a big, stupid smile. "Imagine me, a Grand Admiral. Bringer of the end of the Rebellion, peacekeeper of the Empire, commander of all the fleets!"

"Indeed, you have opened a potential opportunity, sir," Captain Antilles says in a robotic manner as he remains seated, gloved hands folded together.

"Well I imagine in not much time you'll be considering our boy Valen for your Elite group, eh Terrus?!" Ozzel says proudly with his blank smile. Captain Antilles gives a quick, empty smile back, but does not respond verbally. Ozzel remains completely oblivious, and blurts, "Well, at any rate, you are an extremely talented pilot, Lieutenant, with great promise among our squadrons. Folund has vouched for your skills in leadership, tactics, and I guess he also values 'intuition.'" Ozzel smirks at the remark, and raises his chin, speaking down his nose at Valen. He speaks in a dutiful, officer-like manner, "In light of your achievements, and display of leadership today, I agree with his request to promote you to Lieutenant Commander. You will be assigned a much-needed subsquadron under Captain Darius." Rocking on his heels, he presents another box to Valen, just like the one Darius gave to him in the hangar.

Valen takes it and holds it down at his side. "I'm honored, sir."

"As well you should be, son! Honor and Distinction to us, my boy. You are both dismissed. Well done, Lieutenant Commander."

Valen and Folund walk out and down the hallway, lined with windows. "Great job, Valen. I'm glad you caught this one."  
"Thank you, Captain."  
"I think the gap in rank has closed enough between us, Valen."  
"Yessir-er...Folund."  
Darius chuckles, and looks out at the stars. "It's interesting to hear anyone else call me that but the Skipper and Captain Antilles."

"Ozzel says I may have the opportunity to join Captain Antilles if they see fit."  
Folund leans in, and says extremely quietly as they walk, "Valen, I want you to listen to me on this. Be wary of the Alphas, or becoming part of any Elite group. You don't want to be a part of what they are just because you're a good pilot. I'm letting you know this because I can consider us close colleagues now."  
"I don't understand, Folund. I thought we wanted to stay alive and serve our Emperor where he can acknowledge us. Didn't you say that the Elite are the only ones the Emperor cares about?"  
"They represent the best of the brainwashed, venomous snakes in our Empire. If you have the attention of the Elites, it'd be best to keep your eyes open. Moreso if you join them." Folund looks around the hallways at the people walking next to them. "I'll leave it at that."

Valen takes a moment to ponder this thought, and then the low hum of the ship rumbles to life. The rising pitch of engines pulls at the hairs on the back of Valen's neck, and his ears are bombarded with the cry-honk of a klaxon. The floor underneath them shifts only a little, but a noticeable amount. An announcement suddenly blurts over the ship-wide channel from a crewman on the bridge.  
"Brace for lightspeed in 10…" Valen looks at Folund, who's looking up at the speakers. They, and everyone else in the hallway step to the sides and grab the handholds built into the walls.

"This is an emergency jump!" Valen says in a concerned tone.  
Folund grins and says, "Looks like the Emperor got our message, Valen."  
"...3, 2, 1, lightspeed." The starfield out the windows next to them goes white, the stars streaking across the black sky like they are being pulled apart. The hallway turns bright, as if flooded with sunlight. The crewmen around them rock backward, shifting their footing as they hold onto the walls. After some time accelerating, the radical stream of starlight begins to go bluish in color. The Phalanx's speed begins to normalize, and everyone starts to let go of their handles.

Again, the speakers blurt with another voice, speaking calmly and dutifully through the hallways. "This is the Captain speaking. We are en route to rendezvous with the Death Star." There is an odd discoloration in his usually blissful voice, as if his mood had somehow changed since just moments ago in his office. "As per the special parameters of our mission, we are to empty selected TIE fighter pilots back onto the station, and then depart to rejoin the fleets. TIE Fighter crews, you will be briefed by your commanders, prepare for flight."

Valen looks over at the Captain. Folund looks back with a subtle, proud grin. "Get packed up, Lieutenant Commander. I'll see you in the hangar bay." Folund walks off down the hallway to his officer's quarters.

The crewmen in the hallway are all starting to walk with urgency now. Valen looks out at the streaking stars, and sees his reflection in the window. He bends his elbow, raising a hand from his side, and looks down at the little black box. He opens it slowly, revealing his new rank pin. Boyishly, with slight clumsiness, he pulls his flight officer's cap from his jumpsuit pocket, and removes his Lieutenant's pin from the front of it. Gently, he pulls the new pin from the fabric in the box, and puts it on his cap. With a little flip over the back of his head, and a firm pull forward, Valen looks back up and takes in the sight of the Lieutenant Commander in front of him. He holds the moment, and stands straight for his reflection.

Rushing into the garrison hallway, Valen can feel the electric atmosphere. Theta Squadron pilots are running, walking, marching to and fro, in and out of their quarters with their equipment. The pilots who have made it through the tour so far are now packing up to head back to the Death Star. As usual, the brown coated rousting officers stomp around shouting at the pilots to hurry up. Their shouting and pushing, while adding noise, tames the chaos. One officer stands among the pilots, picking them up by their harnesses and pulling them along, as if to control the ebbs and currents of a river.  
"Let's go, move along, boys! Move along! Right, you! If you don't move your bucket, you won't be flying-" The officer stops short as he holds a pilot by the harness. Noticing the cap, he nods at Valen. "Lieutenant Commander."

Valen nods back as he walks through to his and Ando's quarters. He can hear behind him as the officer doesn't miss a beat, and continues shouting and pushing the pilots along.

As he opens his door, he looks into an empty room. Ando's things aren't packed. Valen pauses just a moment, then quickly swabs out the inside of his helmet. He grabs his equipment bag and walks out.

Of course, he's in a bacta bath. He'll be out in time to fly.

Throwing his bag over his shoulder and holding the black skull under his arm, he wades back out into the sea of jumpsuited pilots. He follows the flow down the hallway as if drifting down river. As the pilots begin to walk the same direction out of the garrison, they are shoved and organized into a column. Valen marches along with them until they pour through the hangar access and out onto the flight deck. Captain Darius is standing up on a crate, waiting for them. He holds his helmet under his arm, and a rucksack over his shoulder, just like every one of the pilots present. The pilots form up on the deck in front of him. Darius stands tall as they all halt in unison with a stomp. He remains straight and silent, and regards his pilots for a moment.

"Pilots. You are standing on the brink of a decisive battle. A freighter holding a Rebel VIP has been under close watch since it escaped the Death Star. A tracker placed on it has led us to the jungle moon of Yavin IV. This is the secret Rebel base, gentlemen. We are to rendezvous and transfer to the Death Star on its way to blast the moon to stardust."  
"GLORY TO THE EMPIRE!"  
"Speed is key here, thus the emergency jump to the rendezvous point. As the Death Star enters the Rebel system, the Emperor foresees an inevitable and desperate attack as they try to claw their way out of certain death. We are to stomp their claws and keep them in their grave as we burn it. We'll be on standby to launch defense groups from the Death Star until Yavin IV is no more, after which we will contain and destroy any evacuating forces." Darius stops for a moment, and changes gears. "You are a glorious group of pilots, Imperial men and soldiers deserving of every bit of Honor and Distinction that falls on you. I'm proud to give charge of some of my squadron to our new Lieutenant Commander, Valen Rannix. Step up here, son." Valen, caught a little off guard over the rush on things, steps forward and turns to face Theta Squadron, his rucksack still over his shoulder.  
"I will assign five pilots to Rannix's Delta sub-squadron. Junior Lieutenant Marsh. Flight Officer Cody…." Valen looks out as each pilot called raises his head a little more, stands a little straighter. Valen's first team, his squadron. He feels a smile coming, but keeps a stern face. Responsibility weighs heavily on his shoulders. Must stay vigilant, these pilots will depend on him from now on. Captain Darius finishes calling out names.

"Get familiar with your leader, gentlemen. The rest of you, fall in with me. I will be relieving the resident squadron commander and taking his place. Welcome back to Epsilon, pilots. To your fighters."

The TIE pilots start throwing on their helmets and breaking up. As they split up toward the catwalk access, Valen looks around a little, as if a child lost in a crowd. As he gathers his attention again, he notices his squad has emerged from the crowd and approached him, helmets off. Dryll Marsh stands closest. A good pilot. Receives orders well, as he did when helping to trap the red haired Rebel spy. Bajoc Cody and Isikiel "Zeek" Palimund. Both lost their wingmen at Sarron and were paired at the Vuiros Nebula, where they were noted for their contributions. Invernus Kol was Merik's new wingman, who landed a fighter kill at Vuiros. And Lim Xigung. Valen has to admit to himself, he doesn't really know him.

This meeting is a little odd. He can see their faces, put names on them. This feels much different than shouting tactical orders at squad numbers. He takes a moment to compose himself as they look to him, and then parlays his first commanding orders. "Pilots, it's good to know, and meet you. You will make Delta proud. Together, we'll do Epsilon proud. To your ships." The Delta team depart, and Valen walks up to Captain Darius.

"Captain."  
"Yeah Valen, what's up?" Darius says informally as he watches the men board their TIEs from his crate.  
"Have you seen Junior Lieutenant Merik? I was hoping he could join my squadron."

Darius looks down at Valen, and jumps off his crate. He looks him in the eye, and quietly says, "You've done all you can to watch over your friend, Valen. Unfortunately the Emperor only desires the accomplished among us to rejoin. Andorus' failures at Sarron and the Morku Belt have left him, according to command, 'unsuited for the defense of the Emperor's prized station,' I'm sorry."

Valen feels a slight anxiety for Ando being left alone. Standing his ground, he says, "Sir, if I may, I'd like to insist that Junior Lieutenant Merik join the Deltas."  
"Valen, I need you to put your individuality aside and think about the bigger picture here," Darius says respectfully, allowing his new colleague to finish. "We don't know what's on Yavin IV. The Emperor's need to strike the Rebels so immediately has left us with a great deal of unknowns. If the base is populated, we may be rushing into a fight with an entire fleet within a few hours. The station's defenses might hold, but I don't think Andorus has the track record he needs to make it through that. With such a costly mistake to both ship and medical supplies, command thinks perhaps they should reserve their spare fighters for someone else with a better record. I'm sorry, Valen. Andorus may never fly again."  
Valen stands, stoic faced, as he is given the bad news. "So, what happens to him now?"  
"Valen, you're a good pilot. A real Imperial. Andorus will be heading with the Phalanx back to the fleets, I'm having him plugged into a ground transport unit. He'll have plenty of opportunity for glory there."

"That can be done?"  
Darius puts a hand on Valen's shoulder and they begin walking up to the catwalks. "They're always open to transfers from the Navy to the Marines."

Valen is saddened by the consequences of his friend's failures, but at the same time feels that Ando's shocking bravery and impulsiveness could get him killed in a delicate TIE fighter. Perhaps he is safer away from them. Shaking the thought, he walks with Darius and inquires something else that's on his mind. "The freighter was tracked to the Rebel base? What about the information we sent?"

Folund pulls one corner of his mouth flat, thinking of the best way to put it. "We're still proud of you for your capture of the spy, and we'll glean any further secrets from her we can. Truth is, though, the Skipper got ahead of himself, seeing an opportunity to grab for more power. We were just a step behind, Valen. It happens to all of us." Valen slows, and Folund looks over at him. Valen's face has a slight sneer of disappointment on it. With nothing else to say, Folund sighs through his nose, and gives Valen a slightly rough pat on the shoulder to jog him out of it.

"Come on, Valen," he says as he walks ahead and begins to climb into his TIE. He turns in his hatch and looks at the newly christened leader. "Glory awaits us all on the Death Star!" he shouts out loud, and pulls his helmet over his head. Valen smirks as he notices Folund's defiant helmet. The Captain's facemask bears a red painted scar on it, going down from the cheek to the mouth, just like the one he'd received on Sarron. Everyone in Epsilon Squadron starts to laugh as they notice their leader's non-regulation helmet, and Valen looks down at the grates of the catwalk, unable to shake his smile. He hides it by throwing his own helmet over his head, and walks to his fighter.

The fighter pilots sit silently, their canopies dark, apart from the white light beneath them. They click over switches and dial in their engine functions quietly. Valen sticks to his seat and checks his stats.

Ion engines spooled up. Idling and ready. Life support looks good. Hoses are sealed. Lenses are clear, readouts are accurate within .001. Firing controls need some quick calibrating…are the windows alright? The cockpit frame of this TIE looks-

"Alright. Epsilon," Darius' buzzing voice splits the silence like a wedge. "Our Emperor has expressed just how little time he wants to wait for us to hold up the Death Star. He wants those rebs dead, and he wants them dead now. That means a transfer at combat speed. We know this basic drill, now I want to see record times. We're out of hyperspace in one minute. Make one last check, and await my final countdown." The Captain's voice cuts out with a click, and Valen opens up his squadron's channel.

"Delta Squad, you heard the Captain, combat transfer. I know this isn't the most tactical maneuver you'll be on with me, but I want us to keep it tight. We don't have a lot of time to get to know each other before the real fight begins, we might as well start the trust here."

"We copy, Ace."

"Roger, Ace, we trust you already."

"Copy, Ace. Whatever you say."

Valen has heard the nickname once or twice before, but never so regularly. "Alright Deltas, stand by." He puts the pride away before it takes hold, and cycles the life support functions in his suit.

Darius buzzes in after a moment, "Alright squads, standard grids. I'm dropping us on my mark. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, mark."

The streaking light beneath them slams to a halt, and they shoot downward out of the hangar bay immediately. Empty space, nothing but the stars. One of the squadmates chimes in.  
"Captain. Sir, there's nothing out here."  
"'Record time,' Epsilon 7. Full throttle to the rendezvous, squadrons." The TIEs scream off at combat speed, one unified column of fighters. "Widen formation and lock in your headings, prepare for gravitational turbulence," Darius warns, his voice unchanged. No sooner do the squads have a short moment to prepare themselves than the steely grey planetoid arrives out of hyperspace in front of them. It's a blink, and then all of a sudden the TIEs begin to rumble and shake.

"Home sweet home," one of the pilots says comfortably as their top speed begins to accelerate to a higher velocity. Another pilot whistles into his comm at the impressive battlestation.

"It's my first time on the station, Syrros. When we get some time you'll need to show me around," Quickly, the mechanical moon fills Valen's entire cockpit window, and is already starting to peek over his dorsal viewport. The station is a powerful and intimidating sight. Why they would need veteran fighter defense for such a thing is beyond him. As they get closer, pulled in by gravity, it feels as if they're falling forward towards the surface of the massive sphere.  
"Lord Vader and the legendary Black Squadron are watching from on board the station. Let's show them how the Epsilon fighter wing has grown." The TIEs form up and tighten their grid, sprinting towards the now visible hangar bays. As they get close enough, the squadron starts receiving external orders from the station.  
"Fighter Wing Epsilon, you're on visual, split off into quarters and proceed on headings, the hangar bays will receive you."  
Captain Darius returns comms, "Copy station, we read. Epsilon, Delta, will meet you station-side." Valen hurries toward the western hangar with his sub-squadron. The bright white halo of the hangar bay bathes his canopy in light as he passes through the atmospheric shielding. Valen's fighter is jarred from coming in fast and hitting oxygen so suddenly, and he jolts forward in his seat. Once in the hangar bay, he lines up his fighter with the waiting cranes, no time to wait for the tractor beams on a combat transfer. A little feathering here, adjusting yaw a bit there and…..attached. The hooks all align and lock into place with a dull series of clunks.

"Delta Leader locked in," the station officers report. Valen's fighter is repositioned and begins to slowly lower in front of the catwalk access. Valen begins to power down his fighter, and looks out his cockpit window. Hangar crewmen stand in front of him at the catwalk with refueling hoses and tools. Immediately after him, the rest of the fighters have already begun lining up to attach to the cranes. One after another, they quickly, and flawlessly attach to the racks.  
"Delta 2 locked. Delta 3 and 4 locked. Deltas 5 and 6, confirmed, locked in."

No sooner does the final one attach than does the countdown begin. The klaxons cry and buzz through Valen's cockpit glass. "All crews brace, all crews brace. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, lightspeed."

Valen looks out at the crewmen in front of him, holding onto the catwalk railing. They, and the TIEs all lurch slightly to one side as the entire Death Star rushes off into superluminal flight once again. After a moment, as if nothing has happened, the crewmen stand up with their equipment, and resume their work. One waves Valen out of his cockpit, and Valen punches at his chest, unclipping his harness. He immediately spins in his seat and reaches back for his rucksack. Rising to a hunched crouch, Valen puts his arms up and unseals his top hatch, allowing him to stand fully. He places his hands on top of his fighter and vaults his feet up and out of the cockpit, slowly walking over to and jumping down onto the catwalk. Valen unlocks and slips off his shining black skull, tucking it under his arm. He's met by an olive uniformed officer, who marches up the catwalk toward him.  
"Welcome aboard, Squadron Leader."  
"Thanks, do I have any time to change my suit? I haven't been out of this thing since the last mission began."  
"Sorry, sir, no-can-do. We need all pilots to report to the stand-by decks," the officer says as he pulls the rucksack off of Valen's shoulder. "We're prepping to enter the Yavin System, I've been ordered to accompany you and your Delta Squadron to stand-by room 13."

Valen looks out across the hangar bay at his squadron as they hop out and stand at the catwalks. "Delta Squad!" he shouts. "Gather at hangar access C, we're reporting at the stand-by deck!" Valen looks back at the officer. "Lead the way."

Valen and his Delta Squadron arrive at the doorway labeled SB-13, where the officer departs the group. Epsilon squadmates nod and greet each other as they file into an empty room full of chairs. As they walk in, they all start to sit down, facing a rectangular table that looks like an altar in the middle of the room. Captain Darius stands at the center, his scarred helmet removed, disconnected from his chestpiece and placed on the table. He stands with an emotional detachment from the pilots. Valen walks up to stand with him, as a co-leader. Puzzlingly, Darius puts a hand on Valen's shoulder, lightly pushing him towards a seat in the front row. He subtly motions for Valen to sit with the rest of the pilots.

Darius remains stoic as he stands in the middle of the room. The final pilots are seated, and all is quiet. Darius remains still, completely silent. After a moment, an officer quietly walks in, close to Darius. Darius gives his attention as the officer says something inaudible. Darius does a full, noticeable take, furrowing his brow. He immediately turns from the officer, and shouts, "EPSILONS, ATTENTION!"

The pilots shoot upward, snapping into place like machines. Darius grabs for his helmet and puts it on the floor behind the table, snapping back to attention and facing the door. The officer who has just joined stands upright at attention as well.  
In the silence, the sound of marching soldiers can be heard. Boots clomping on shining durasteel plating. Getting closer. Closer. Silently, eight pilots walk into the room, and stand at attention in the middle, a neat and tidy row. Valen inspects them from among the crowd. Holding a presence Valen hasn't felt since meeting Captain Antilles for the first time, they stand, saying nothing. Their faces are steeled, their eyes narrowed. The mysterious pilots wear a familiar insignia on their shoulder, bearing a vertical red stripe.

Elites. Holy...This must be Black Squadron!

These are the vicious, deadly heroes of the Empire. The ones all the cadets hear stories about. Most of them aces many times over, Valen remembers studying their ingenious maneuvers and feats of glory at the Academy. One of them looks out at the room full of regulars with hawkish eyes. Just before he sees Valen, Valen looks back forward. These are the faces of Lord Vader's personal Elite fighter pilots. And they all fly TIEs.

….But if this is Black Squadron, that means-

The color drains from Valen's face as a robotic wheeze echoes from down the hallway. As the deathly sound passes through the room, the pilots realize who approaches. The heavy footsteps that accompany the breath grow louder, more present. Attention tightens up, the pilots double their stances. Closer. The breathing is getting closer. It's right outside the door.

The footsteps slow, and the door opens. A towering black shadow enters. The imposing mechanical breath of the respirator fills the room, sending shivers down Valen's spine.

"Lord Vader," the new officer greets meekly. The name resonates through the pilots' heads. The scowling black helmet hisses and sighs as their lord walks to the center, his presence feeling like it's pulling light from the room. The flowing cape of the spectre settles and falls around his shoulders as he places his fists on his hips. He stands like a massive, blackened tree, looking out upon the pilots. In a sudden, booming voice, "Captain Darius."

Strongly as he can, Darius replies, "Yes, Lord Vader. This is Epsilon group. They have returned from a successful tour to bolster the experience of the Death Star's defense wings. We are fully capable of protecting our Emperor's battle station."

The charcoal black statue remains silent in place, unresponsive to the boasts. Only the constant, monstrous breathing can be heard. The pilots in the middle remain as if stone. "We shall see, Captain Darius," Lord Vader's voice hisses Darius' name with a natural, venomous animosity. He then addresses the officer, "Commander Vettridge, you will be contacted by me….IF we require Epsilon."

"Yes, Lord Vader. May I add that-" The shadowy figure stomps out of the room, cutting off the commander. Commander Vettridge clamps his mouth shut as they exit in their own time. First Vader, then his terrifying Black Squadron, the door closing with a whoosh behind them, and clamping shut. The wheezing and stomping of boots fades to nothing down the hallway, and the pilots all begin to relax again.

Darius breaks attention first, bending. It looks almost as if he has breathed a sigh of relief. Following with a pursed sneer, Darius casually says with a grumble, "At ease, Epsilon," and nods over at Vettridge. "Commander, rig us up here." Darius motions with his head as he leans down to pick up his scarred helmet from behind the table. The pilots begin to take their seats once again.

Commander Vettridge clears his throat and walks around the table, pulling a code cylinder out of his breast pocket. He clicks a switch under the table, and applies the code cylinder end into the receiver on top. In a warble, the hologram emitters power on, singing an electronic hum. The Yavin System is represented in light above the table. The gas giant Yavin Prime with its many moons is shown in real time. "Captain Darius, I'll leave it to you." Vettridge walks to one side, and Darius moves to the center.

"Pilots, this is the Yavin System. The Death Star is on approach to the gas giant, here. We've just dropped out of hyperspace." Darius leans over the table and points to the representation of the battlestation. He guides his finger along the flight path, drawing an imaginary line around the outside of the planet. "The station will enter orbit from the far side of Yavin Prime, and immediately upon passing into full view of Yavin IV, will destroy the moon with its primary weapon. Just like Alderaan, gentlemen. I hear that was quite a sight."

Empowered chuckles pass between the pilots.

"Be aware, though; Alderaan was a Rebel sympathizer planet to be made an example of. Yavin IV is a military occupied world; the seat of the Rebellion. They will not allow the station to destroy them without opposition. I don't need a brain to know that a strike is coming, and our objective is the defense of the station until the Rebellion is wiped out. So far...we can't be sure if a Rebel fleet is hiding in the system somewhere; our sensors can't penetrate through to the other side of Yavin Thirteen and Eight," he points across to the far side of Yavin to different moons. "The comet Stroiketcy is passing close by, causing interference." The pilots silently shift in their seats and look around at each other. There's a noticeable anxiety at the thought of engaging with Rebel battleships. The pilots begin to mumble to each other about the bombardment mission on Sarron, making runs on Rebel turbolaser emplacements.  
"I know none of you currently have experience attacking Rebel cruisers, but we have the firepower of the entire battlestation at our back. Hundreds of thousands of our Navy brothers will be flying with us. With that kind of firepower, we will quickly overcome any ragtag outfit they have. That will be all. Stand by, Epsilons."

The Delta pilots look over at Valen, and he parlays some informal orders. "Double check your connections and do a run-through of your suit safety systems." The pilots roll to one side and pick up their helmets uniformly, starting the procedure from step 1, as trained. Valen picks up his chair and sets it next to Captain Darius. Darius motions for Commander Vettridge to come over as well. They sit around the hologram as the Death Star slowly moves towards the gas giant.  
"Commander, I need some more information while we wait." Captain Darius says quietly, leaning forward against his knees while he sits.

"There is a possibility that the Alliance have mustered a fleet, relying on us not to be able to see around those moons," Commander Vettridge begins by stating the obvious.

An answer comes quickly from Darius. "In my experience, the Rebel fleets are largely scattered and disorganized. I've made some maneuvers around their frigates we can employ to cause confusion. We'll have them routed, and then we can ride the momentum of their retreat."

"I don't doubt your reputation, Captain. But we do need to worry about potential Mon Calamari ships."  
Darius' brow raises slightly. "The Mon Calamari haven't joined the Rebellion, have they?"  
"Not officially. We have reports that they're contributing ships to the Rebellion's cause though. Since their revolt, the Rebellion have contacted-"  
"I haven't engaged a Mon Calamari Cruiser yet. I'll need more information on them."  
"I'll send for some logs and information, Captain." The commander turns away and speaks quietly into the console. Captain Darius turns in his chair and addresses Valen.

"Firepower aside, due to our ability to destroy the planet once we reach them, they'll probably only have time to send an intercepting force. If we surprise them with our arrival, their only choice will be to come at us head-on, along our flight path. If cruisers are part of their assault, so be it. The Death Star's defenses are designed to repel such an attack. Input, Rannix?"  
Valen leans forward, eager to contribute amongst the higher ranks. "They'll be forced to come at us straight on to intercept, allowing us to dictate the battle at the outset. If you and the Epsilons come through the center, with Delta running the flank, we can turn and deflect them out of our path."  
"My thoughts as well. If we can turn them, we can push the Rebel forces aside and burn out that planet without much issue. From there we can chase them out of the system and the Death Star can flag in the nearest intercepting fleet to finish them."

The table makes an electronic pinging sound, and another blip shows up on the hologram, peeking out from behind one of the moons as they pass by. Darius narrows his eyes, "Commander, zoom in on that." Vettridge looks down at the console and back up as he turns a dial, the wheel clicking mechanically. The Yavin system pulls apart and the blip blows up to a discernable size. Valen looks at it closely. It looks like a hunk of junk, like a derelict satellite long out of maintenance.

Commander Vettridge dismisses it. "Hmph. Just a bit of garbage."  
Darius leans in and inspects the visage. "It's a Rebel deception, Commander, I've seen these before; early warning satellites. Those rats are resourceful….If they haven't recognized this, see to it station command is made aware." Darius leans back in his chair, making a mental note. "The Rebels have been watching us since we entered the system."

"Surely it makes no difference. Seeing us coming won't slow our approach," Vettridge mumbles as he clicks a few keys into the console. The new find becomes marked between two red holographic brackets, and the map zooms back out to track the Death Star. The station is now in orbit around the gas giant, and on final approach to the moon.

"If they've been watching us, they're probably already mobilizing their counterattack."  
A little beep on the console attracts Vettridge's attention, and he reads the notification out loud. "Word back: Grand Moff Tarkin has great confidence this find won't matter. He says the Death Star will continue on approach and eradicate the moon."  
"Are we trying to destroy the Rebellion immediately or just chase them off again? Hopefully they're not preparing to evacuate already. Our Moff should be less confident and more intelligent about this. We should keep an eye out for any more of these satellites."  
Vettridge looks at Darius slightly sideways for the remark about their Grand Moff, but affirms, "Yes, Captain." Valen watches the exchange. Darius makes tactical decisions like he should be a much higher rank. The comments seem especially reckless. An announcement is made over the station-wide speakers.  
"All crews stand by, all crews stand by," the announcement buzzes. A new set of blips appears from the surface of Yavin IV. And then more. And more blips. Four sets of them. Valen observes the hologram and, after a moment, looks past it at the pilots. They have all stopped polishing their helmets and are picking up their heads to look.  
"Commander," Darius nods at the hologram. The dial spins in a series of clicks once more, zooming in on the blips. Fighters. Four attack wings of them, coming around the gas giant toward the station. Valen sees the pilots' lips moving as they count the blips to themselves. 1, 2, 3, … 15, 16, 17, ….21, 22, 23, …..28, 29, 30. 30 enemy fighters on approach. Fresh off their tour, the Epsilons and Deltas together no longer number that many. With support from the other fighter crews, however, they should be able to overwhelm them.

Darius stands slowly as he counts them as well. His face by now is stone-serious, his brow furrowed to hide that his eyes have widened slightly. The Captain detaches himself once again, and motions at the Commander. "I'm sure those will be marked, but send in word that we count 30 fighters in what looks like 4 squadron formations on sensors. Would be good to cross-check with the other stand-by rooms."

"Sir."  
An alert klaxon howls down the glistening black hallways, the accompanying announcement making Valen's heart skip a beat. "Battle stations, all gunnery crews. All gunnery crews to battle stations." The announcement chimes in again with a rattle.

"Captain, I don't see any cruisers in their formations," Valen says quietly as he stands to look at the cloud of blips with Darius.  
"We'll keep our eyes open. If they've been watching us this long, they could execute a much larger scale of attack before we reach the moon." Darius looks from the hologram back to Vettridge. "Commander, any word of orders to intercept?"  
"None, Captain." The Captain just looks back at the hologram and sighs through his nose. Valen stands at his shoulder, watching as the blips get closer, and closer. Close enough for Commander Vettridge to zoom in so that just the fighters and the station are in view.

"Captain, what do you think command is planning?" Valen asks as he studies the formations.  
"I think they're having 'great confidence' Valen," Darius says through his teeth, with sarcasm so thick it seems to drop audibly onto the table. Vettridge looks sideways from his console at the Captain once more. The sounds of turbolaser fire erupt through the hallways. Booms and twangs echo and vibrate the deck. The hologram blips begin to accelerate and split up into groups, attacking the station along the equator. Distant explosions can be heard as they rumble the deck.

"Medical crews to SB-7." The words chill the pilots. Murmurs amongst the men can be heard.  
"Whoa, they hit that room dead on."  
"That was fast."  
"Tau Squadron? Was that Tau?"

Regardless of all the sound and fury that the turbolaser emplacements exhibit, the blips on the radar are not in any hurry to vanish. Darius mumbles under his breath as he stares at the blips, "Come on guys, hit something."

"Why don't they send us out?" Valen asks, confused.  
"The Moff thinks he can use the station's weapons to take out the fighters." Just then, a blip goes out on the hologram, and the pilots give a quiet cheer. The enemy blips reorganize and converge on the hologram of a laser tower on the surface. A rumble through the floor accompanies the disappearance of the tower, and the pilots go quiet once again. Darius continues to stare into the hologram, standing with his hands on the railing of the table. His hands clench slightly over the edge. "They're designed to defend against capital ships, not fighters. What are they thinking?"

Another explosion rattles the deck, this one close. It startles the row of pilots in their seats along the back wall. They turn and look at it, as if they expect it to crumble at any moment. The lights flicker subtly, and the turbolasers continue their drumming.

"Medical crews to SB-15."

"Another one?!" Valen hears one of the pilots say.

"That one was Phi Squad! They just hit Phi, right near us!"  
"Settle down, pilots!" Darius sits up straight, keeping the ruckus under control, but then turns back to the hologram. "They're targeting the flight group stand-by rooms. I don't know of any scanner that can detect where we are so specifically, how do they know? Vettridge, tell command that groups of the enemy fighters are targeting the stand-by rooms." He turns back to the hologram. "It's like they know the layout of the whole station, I don't understand it."  
"Sir."  
"Captain! We gotta get out of this room, they're gonna hit us next!"  
Captain Darius shoots up out of his seat. "Sit down, Junior Lieutenant! Everyone, seal your suits and prep for flight!" He grabs his helmet off the table.  
"Captain, we are not cleared to engage, follow orders and stay put." Vettridge looks up from his console.  
Rather aghast at the continued lack of action, Darius asks roughly, "There's no word from command yet?"  
"Nothing, sir, I'd let you know."

A small set of blips exits the surface of the Death Star. The brackets around the squadron are labeled "BLACK." Finally, fighters are engaging. The pilots begin to stand up again.

"There's Black Squadron!"  
"Yes! They'll protect us!"  
"Is that them? There are only six!"

"Six aces, Marsh."  
"There's three more! That's Vader! We can't lose now!" The pilots cheer to see the Empire's most famous fighter pilots defending them. Soon enough, an enemy blip disappears off the display.  
"Yeah! They got one! Did you see that?"

Darius leans forward, staring at the blips like he's reading a book. "They're not enough. Look," he says as he points across. "Half of them are chasing the enemy fighters across the northern pole for some reason. The rest of the enemies are still right above us. They're taking out all the pilots in the stand-by-" Another explosion rocks the deck like it's right on top of them, shaking the floor and knocking the lights out. Darius falls forward and catches himself on the table, dropping his helmet. Panels in the walls open with a snap, throwing oxygen masks out and hanging them from their hoses. Pilots are jarred out of their chairs and hit the floor as the hologram fizzles and goes out. After a moment, dim emergency lighting comes on, urgent klaxons blaring on the other side of the walls, muffled. Commander Vettridge is clamped to his chair and looks up at the ceiling in the darkness as the alarms go off. His officer's cap missing in the dark, thin hair flipped out of place. Panels have broken loose from the ceiling and are hanging in the middle of the room. The call for medical teams comes through speakers far down the hallway, too muffled to hear. What can be heard though, are the sounds of screaming. People are yelling for help outside in the hallway. The pilots all look at Captain Darius. Darius looks back at the door.  
"Alright, that's enough of this! EPSILONS, HELMETS ON!" Darius snatches his scarred helmet off the floor and begins to attach the hoses to his chest piece as he walks toward the door. The pilots all stand up and begin to follow.

The commander steps in front of the door. "Pilots, belay that order! Captain, you and your squadrons are to stay put, you have no orders to engage with the enemy!"  
"Only because they don't care how many of us die before the Death Star reaches the moon! The enemy obviously knows everything about this station, they're hitting all the stand-by rooms to cut off a fighter defense! You can stay here and wait for the room to collapse, WE'RE GOING TO SAVE LIVES."  
"Sir, I can't let you do that! Everyone step away from the door!" Valen can hear panic in Vettridge's voice as he stands against a room full of scared and angry pilots.  
Darius steps forward at him. "The power's out all over this deck, and Vader and eight other pilots are out there taking on twenty eight enemy fighters. If they're calling for help, and we can't hear them, I invite you to explain that to your Emperor!" Darius stands close, leaning forward at Vettridge, much like Valen remembers how their arguments always ended. Darius motions with his head at the wall behind Vettridge, survival equipment hanging out of it. "Put that mask on, and let us through this door, commander. That's an order."

Vettridge stares at Darius for a long moment, and then turns to the panel behind him. He spins back with a mask in hand, and pulls it over his face. Captain Darius' sneering face is immediately covered in his scarred helmet. He turns back and looks past Valen, shouting through his comm, "Helmets on, pilots!" Valen immediately throws his helmet on, his squadron quickly following. Darius turns and nods at Vettridge, who manually disengages the door.

As the door cracks open, wind starts to rush out of the room, the air thinning. Two pilots go to help pry the door open enough to exit, as Vettridge shouts over the rushing air. "Hangar Bays are down the hall to the right through the main hangar access! 19 and 20 are at Junction B, 21 and 22 are at C!" The doors are opened, and Darius follows the Commander out, Valen and the pilots following close behind.

As Valen exits into the smoky hallway, engineers in oxygen masks run about in the dim, flickering light. Valen looks down the hallway to the left at a gout of fire shooting from a broken pipe, two engineers working together to close a valve to the leak. He looks down at a brown jacketed officer, lying on his side on the floor. His trouser leg is torn and soaked in blood. The man throws his hands up at Valen, the bloody fingers twisted and gnarled like claws. Valen stands in a daze as he watches the man's blue face choke and sputter on the thin oxygen.  
"Hey, Ace!" Valen hears Junior Lieutenant Kol from his squadron. He turns and looks back at the crowd of pilots as an oxygen mask gets passed to him, hand over hand. Valen stretches out his arms to receive it, and presses it against the officer's face, no time to strap it over his head. The man gasps for air and breathes shallowly as he pulls it tighter against his face. As he holds the mask on the officer, Valen looks out across the once-shining black hallway. Bodies of naval personnel litter the immediate hallway floor. A doorway to a neighboring stand-by room is partially smashed open, black smoke pouring out and blanketing the ceiling. Crewmen work to try and pull the door open. A heavy hand slaps him on the back of his helmet, and he turns to see a medical officer. Over the roar of the fire, and from behind the oxygen mask, the crewman shouts something that Valen can't hear. The crewman moves in to take Valen's place holding the officer's mask, and throws his case of tools onto the floor, against the wall. Valen gets up as the medic moves in and tourniquets the officer's leg.  
"Lieutenant Commander!" Captain Darius shouts through the comms. The squadrons have already started moving down the halls. Valen runs off to catch up with them, but slows as he passes the busted door. Burned hands reach out from the thick smoke with fingers outstretched, as the crewmen outside try to pry the door all the way open. Valen can barely make out the whites of the trapped pilots' eyes through the smoke. "We can't save Gamma Squadron if we let them hit the deck again, we have to get to the fighters, Valen!" Valen takes one last look, and runs down the hallway.

Epsilon and Delta Squad reach the hangar access in a quiet and half-powered hallway. Commander Vettridge half-yells to Darius through his oxygen mask, "Here we are, Captain! Once you pass through here, I need to seal this door to regulate the atmo!" Darius' scarred helmet nods, and he leads the way through the door as the Commander stands next to the console. The pilots jog through the doorway. As they head down the access to the hangars, the Commander seals and locks down the door behind them. The pilots split up into groups and head to their respective hangars. Valen waves over at Delta and leads them off to theirs.

The lights flicker and dim as Valen and his sub squadron arrive on the flight deck. Valen looks out through the hangar opening as the starfield lights up with orange and green flashes. Crewmen in oxygen masks wave them on to their fighters. Valen shouts orders to his squadron as they split up and run to their catwalks. "Delta Squadron! Spin up, ASAP and prepare for combat launch on my mark!"

"Roger, Ace!"

Valen runs up to his TIE and clambers up over the hull, jumping into his cockpit and closing the hatch. He flips up the switches as the crewmen detach the fuel hoses, and then he buckles himself into his seat. The TIE screams to life, and he throws his hand up to signal the crane operator. "This is Delta Leader, standing by. Check in squadron."

"Delta 2, standing by."  
"Delta 5, standing by."  
"Delta 3, standing by."

"Delta 4, standing by."  
"Delta 6, standing by."  
The crane operator responds in turn, "Roger, Delta. Epsilon, Delta Squadron is ready for launch."  
"Copy, Delta, launch and rendezvous up above the hangar quadrant at coordinates .5," Darius' voice buzzes in.

"Here we go squadron. Mark." Valen clenches his hand above his head in signal. The hooks and locks open, and the TIEs line up and charge out of the hangar. Rushing through the halo of the hangar bay, Delta squadron flies out into the stars. Up through his dorsal viewport, Valen can make out the rest of Epsilon shooting out of the launch bays.

"Okay, Delta, move to rendezvous-"  
"Ace, watch it! Enemy fighters coming in at-" Blazing red light streams through Valen's Delta Squadron. The fire is so intense that Valen can't hear where he's being warned they're coming from. Before he knows it, Isikiel Palimund's fighter shatters into bits, his screaming voice cut out of the comms. Delta squad scatters as 3 X-Wing fighters charge through them. Valen spins his head around to try and track them as they continue diving down toward Epsilon.

Dizzied by the sudden maneuver, Valen shouts out as he reorients his fighter, "Epsilon, you have enemy fighters diving on you from 4.08!" Darius' Epsilons begin to turn and head at the X-Wings.  
"They got Zeek, Ace!" young Bajoc Cody says, in a slight panic over the loss of his wingman.  
"Cody, form up on me and Marsh, trident formation. Xigung, Kol, cover from above and regroup. After those X's!" Pulling up and flying upside down along the path of the X-Wings, Valen and his Deltas head after them. Marsh and Cody drop in behind Valen, with Kol and Xigung above them as they reorient to the Death Star's surface. The Epsilons off in the distance organize their formations into the shape of a giant spear and charge at the enemy fighters head-on. The TIEs are heading straight toward each other, the X-Wings in the middle.

Darius' voice comes through clearly on the comm. "Valen, you remember Sarron?"

Valen grips his controls as Darius' squad approaches fast in his cockpit window, the X-Wings firing into their group. "Copy, on your mark Epsilon. Deltas, arrowhead. Break on my mark." The Deltas form up in a tight pentagon as they rush toward the Epsilons, the distance between them closing.

Darius gives the word, "Epsilons, break!"  
"Mark!" Valen follows up. The TIEs up ahead split out in all directions and rush around. The X-Wings try to peel off and chase after them, but Valen's Deltas break wide from behind and funnel them back toward each other with chattering green fire. Epsilon regroups behind Valen and his squadron as they chase the X-Wings down.  
Darius yells into his comms, "Squadrons, take them out!" The TIE squadrons fire in unison, the overwhelming force tearing the 3 X-Wings to pieces.

"That was for Zeek, ya sneak-attacking reb cowards!" Cody yells into his comms. Three down already, this is amazing. With other fighter wings launching soon, Valen begins to hope this mission could be over quickly.

"Y-Wings, down on the south-west quadrant, bombing the hangar bays and stand-by rooms!"

"I see them, 7. Epsilons, engage!"

"Deltas, up over the top, stand by to dive," Valen commands, Darius powering off with Epsilon, shooting down to skim along the horizon. A formation of enemy bombers can be seen down low, firing torpedoes into the surface of the Death Star. Valen and his TIEs get up high, observing as Epsilon nears. The enemy bombers slowly turn away, swiveling their ion turrets backwards and firing at the pursuing TIEs, and Valen prepares to dive on them.

"Delta Squadron, cut them off at-"  
"Rannix, 3'oclock, low!" Another trio of X-Wings is charging Valen and the Deltas. Perspiration begins to collect in Valen's helmet. Darius and his TIEs are stretched thin against this heavy fighting force, with Black Squadron nowhere to be seen.

Thinking quickly, Valen changes course to meet them. "Delta, arrowhead! Punch through the X's and destroy those bombers!"

"Copy, Ace, right behind you!" Valen's TIEs tighten up into their pentagon formation once again and dive down at the X-Wings. The reddish orange fire rushes up from below as Valen rolls inverted. Slight control variations, left, right, up, down. Keeping the enemy from getting a bead on him. A bolt zips over Valen's cockpit, the heat cracking the glass in his dorsal viewport. Valen flinches downward in his seat. He can feel the intense heat through the top of his helmet. Another skips off the inside of his solar panel, lightly melting the bracing. Valen's controls judder starboard, he compensates to port. This approach might have been a little brash. No time to think about that. His wingmen emerge from both sides and fire green death into the lead X-Wing. The shields hold, but the 3 X-Wings split and fly around the Deltas. Valen kicks the TIE into full throttle as they rush downward to help Darius.

"Valen, the X-Wings are pulling around! They're gonna be right on top of us!"

"Keep going, we're almost there!" Valen can see the enemy bombers fighting off Epsilon down on the surface.

"We're not gonna make it, Ace!"

"Darius, we're coming in above you, and we're dragging a squad of X-Wings. We need you to shake them off us!"

"I hear you Valen, but we're a little busy right now!" Darius is firmly on the tail of a Y-Wing, battering on its rear deflectors. A bright blue flash of arcing electricity accompanies a blast of feedback on the comms, and a TIE starts falling out of control towards the surface.

"Epsilon 9's hit, they're spinning in!"

"Valen! They're right behind us, what do we do?!" Kol pleads.

Valen's stuck. They're still too far. They can't make it there with the X-Wings on them like this. Trying to think quickly, Valen aborts the maneuver. "Blast it...-Deltas! Split and evade! Kol, Xigung, pair up. Marsh, Cody, on me!" They split and barrel roll in opposite directions. The X-Wings, however, do not. The three enemy fighters all go straight for Kol and Xigung.

"Ace, they're right on top of us! I dunno if we can take on-" Xigung's comms go completely silent as Valen and his wingmen come about. When he finishes the 180, Valen sees only Kol dodging frantically about, the 3 X-Wings in close pursuit right behind him.

"Kol, come about at 3.25, straight at us. Hold on, we're coming!"

"Hurry, I don't think I can keep this up, Valen!"

"We're coming, I see you right in front of us!" Kol dips and dives, evading the enemy fire as he rushes straight at Valen. "Almost there, Kol! Marsh, Cody, open up on them!" Valen's wingmen split to either side and converge again in a slalom. They fire around Kol, smashing through the shields of one of the X's. The top port engine glows red hot and starts spinning apart. The other two X-Wings break off the attack and drop underneath as Kol passes by. The injured X-Wing falls in a flat spin to the surface of the Death Star and explodes.

Kol shoots back around, forming up tightly on the group as quickly as he can. "Let's not do that again, ok, Ace?"

"Alright, after those X's!" The four of them chase down the remaining two X-Wings, the TIE's laser cannons hissing and chattering as they bite away at the enemies' shields. Valen sees an opening and cuts between the fighters, splitting them up. "Kol, Cody, keep after that one, Marsh and I are on the leader."

"Roger, Ace." Back in control of the fight, Valen can turn tighter than the X-Wing, and zips up above the leader's tail. Valen fires down its spine and shatters the dome of the astromech droid in it. The lasers pass through the cylindrical droid and drill through the back of the X-Wing's cockpit. The inside of the cockpit bursts into flame, with no sign of the pilot inside.

"Great shot, Valen!" Yells Marsh as they pull off, letting the dead fighter fall to the surface. They head back and see Kol and Cody chasing down the last one, hammering through its shields. Cody takes quick aim and fires between the wings on one side, melting through the coupling. Both wings fly off the starboard side of the X-Wing, and it tumbles away, falling apart. Shortly after, the enemy fighter explodes in a torrent of flame.

"Yeah!" Cody exclaims in celebration.

"Alright, form up on Epsilon! Darius, where are you? We don't have visual."

"If you're not too busy up there, we're still trying to bring these bombers down! 7 o'clock low, we're chasing them along the western hangars, taking casualties!"

"I see you now. Hang on, we'll hit them from the side, that should push them off their bombing run!" Valen and his squad prepare to dive down on them, but the enemy bombers immediately change course, climbing away. Darius and his Epsilons chase for a moment, but then break off their pursuit as a force of X-Wings start swooping in to cut them off.  
"Hold up there, Rannix, we're coming back to you." Valen zooms his visor in on Epsilon as they split and head towards him. The 4 X-Wings fly in and form up on the enemy bombers, where 4 more X-Wings pull in from behind.

"Captain, enemy reinforcements from the northern sectors!"

"I see them, 3." Darius' voice sounds ragged and tired.

"I don't see any other TIE squads," one of the Epsilons remarks. "Comms say Black Squadron's taking some bad casualties up there."

"They'll be here. As long as the enemy's occupied with us, we're buying pilots time to get to the launch hangars." Darius and his Epsilons pull up to meet Valen, forming up on Delta. The two opposing forces begin to circle each other high above the surface, keeping their distance. As Valen looks around through his dorsal and aft viewports, he notices things aren't looking good. Darius' squad has been taking a heavy hit trying to shoot down the Y-Wings. 5 ships left including himself. Valen and his subsquad add for a total of 9 TIEs. As Valen watches in his readouts at the enemy fighting force, he clicks on a private channel between himself and Darius.

"Reinforcements would be here by now if they'd sent them, Folund."  
With a resolute tone, Darius says, "We're saving lives, Valen," and he clicks back to the squadron channel. "All squadrons form up on me and prepare to turn in on my mark…...mark."

Darius' Epsilons pull out in front and bank to port. Valen watches out his cockpit window as the force of X-Wings and Y-Wings peeks out from the other side of his ship's solar panels. The enemy force starts to turn in towards them as well. 10 enemy fighters in front. Shielded. Heavily armed. Valen's breath starts to become shallow, and shakes quietly as he accelerates to keep with Darius. He hasn't felt this way since taking on those fighters at Sarron. The red bolts of light start flashing through the formations, rumbling and shaking the fighters.

"Spread out and avoid those shots, squadrons. Return fire and contract formations on my mark." The TIEs open up their formations to a loose cloud, zig-zagging around the sporadic laser fire. The enemy fighters spread out to compensate. The fighters start getting close, closer. Closer.

"Contract, spearhead formation!" The TIEs immediately collect back in the middle, the X-Wings trying to change course to follow them. "Concentrate fire on the lead bomber!"

"Copy, Lead!" The TIEs blast simultaneously into the front shields of the Y-Wing. A sinking feeling collects in Valen's gut. The shields are holding. The behemoth is still firing back, unaffected. The enemy formations start tightening up, and one of the Epsilons flies apart in a blur of fire and red energy. The enemy fighters begin to pass.

"You're not getting away, you Rebel scum!" A TIE starts to pull away from the Epsilons.

"8, get back in formation!" Darius shouts.

"LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR!-" The TIE pulls up rapidly, smashing into the belly of the lead Y-Wing as it flies past. Valen winces and turns away as bits of solar panel rattle over his hull, the flashes of flame strobing through his cockpit. The sparking, burning Y-Wing tumbles off into space.

Darius doesn't miss a beat, and begrudgingly takes the victory as it is. "Delta, pull around and hit that other Y-Wing NOW!" Valen yanks at his control yolk, flipping his TIE around, his squadron spinning to follow. Marsh is in the perfect spot, and ends up right on the sluggish bomber's tail. The turret spins back to fire at Marsh, but it's too late.

"Take him out Marsh!" Marsh immediately fires green bolts of light down on the Y-Wing's tail, hitting it before it can redirect its shields off from double-front. The port nacelle flexes and separates, and the body starts to go into a sluggish barrel roll without it.

"I got it! I took it out!-"

"Marsh, watch it! That turret's still got some life!" Valen interrupts. Marsh dips and barrel rolls as the turret fires a final wild volley back at him, blue energy hissing past his fighter.

"Whoa!" Marsh banks hard and falls back to Valen.

"Darius, the X's are pulling back around!" Warns one of the Epsilons.

"Form up on me and we'll separate a few of them. Nice shot, Marsh."

"Roger Cap, let's kill some Rebels!" Marsh hoots, invigorated by the victory.

Valen scans the cloud of fighters as they scramble about, no particular order to their formations. Hard to make sense of all their directions as they barrel roll and turn back towards them. But just then, Valen sees an opening. "There, Folund, below us! Two marks at .15!"

"I see them, Ace. Epsilon, dive on those X's, don't let them get back to the group."

"Deltas, get between them. We're running interference." Darius and his two remaining Epsilons criss cross with Valen and his Deltas as they descend on the separated X-Wings. Valen watches as Darius opens fire, then looks up as the scattered X-Wings begin to close on them.

"Alright, Deltas. Buy the Captain some time." Valen pulls up with Marsh as they split off from Cody and Kol, keeping the 6 X-Wings spread out and chasing them. Almost immediately, Marsh warns Valen of danger.

"Valen, we've got one in chase! He's right over us!"

"Keep it together, Marsh, and shake him off!" Valen and Marsh dart around, the X-Wing sticking to them.

"I can't shake him, there are two on us now!"

"Kol, Cody, where are you? We've got two X's chasing us and we can't shake them!"

"We see you, hold on!" All of a sudden green flashes illuminate Valen's cockpit, and he swivels his head around. The pursuing fighters dive away as Kol and Cody chase after them. A shot clips one of the X-Wings dead in the center, and it flies apart immediately.

"Nice shot, Kol!- Watch it, you've got fighters on your tail!" Three other X-Wings are already chasing after Kol and Cody.

"I can't see them, where-" In a blaze of fire, Kol's TIE scatters to bits in front of Cody. Cody breaks off the pursuit, wildly trying to evade the 3 X-Wings.

"Valen, they got Kol, what do I do?!" Valen and Marsh are still pulling around.

"Hang on, Cody! We're coming about, climb to .25, we'll cover for you-"

"There're too many of them, Ace, they're all over me! I can't shake-" a red bolt shears through Cody's main spar, and his TIE starts spinning toward the surface, the starboard solar panel flipping away like a falling leaf. "I'm hit! I'M HIT!" The fuel ignites, and the TIE catches fire as it spins in.

"Bail out, Cody!" Valen yells as he watches the TIE fall further away, trying to make out Cody's shape through the cockpit glass. The entire fighter is engulfed in flames, a blazing yellow fireball.

"I can't reach the hatch! Valen!-" Cody's comms go silent. The flames of Cody's fighter split and fall apart like a falling star, the immolated fragments burning out before they hit the surface. Valen's face twists as he turns back to his readout, looking for Darius' TIEs. Valen and his last squadmate pull away as the enemy fighters regroup from the pursuit.

"Epsilon Leader, this is Delta Leader."

"I hear you, Delta, keep them off us for just a few more seconds! We've almost got the last one."

"Kol and Cody are dead. Marsh and I can't hold off 5 of them, we need to regroup."

Darius' TIEs chase below in silence for a moment, and then pull off. "Roger, Delta Leader. Form up on us quickly." Valen and Marsh dive down from the side and meet up with Darius and his Epsilons, the X-Wings collecting and heading after them.

"We need a new plan, Folund. I don't think we can take them all on."  
"I have one, stay on me. We're going down to the deck." Darius and his remaining TIEs begin to dive, Valen and Marsh following closely. Valen looks out his aft porthole as the 6 X-Wings start to get closer. The red beams of light start to skip past as they come into range much earlier than Valen thought.  
"Folund, they're coming in fast this time!" Valen warns, a burning hot laser shooting over his fighter and into the Epsilon ahead of him, the pilot's cry quickly silenced. He and Marsh flick their fighters up and over the burning fragments as they scatter into space.  
"If Tarkin won't give us help, we're gonna take some! I'm taking us across the southwest firing axis!" Darius banks to port as the surface of the battle station starts to get alarmingly close. A row of turbolaser towers sits on the surface ahead of them like a bristling gauntlet of monoliths. The red lasers continue to pass close by, zipping through and impacting on the surface as Valen dodges left and right. Through his helmet's magnified vision, Valen can see the towers swivel their giant cannons towards them. Soon the red fire is met with green as the turbolaser batteries start firing giant beams of fluorescent energy over the TIEs. The X-Wings pull up and away as the powerful green bolts of energy crash and shoot through their formations. One X-Wing is hit directly up through the underside and explodes on impact with the powerful ordinance. The rest fire some quick shots down on the TIEs as they pull away from the massive display of firepower. Darius' wingman gets clipped through the solar panel by one of the shots, frayed material flaking off and clattering against Valen's cockpit. The trademark red glow of the pilot's starboard engine starts going dim, the TIE's characteristic scream dying in volume.  
"Renifus, you hit?!" Darius yells over the booming green gunfire. Renifus groans through the comms as he fights to keep control.  
"Yeah I-I'm hit pretty bad, but I think it's fine." The bits of solar panel keep splintering bit by bit.  
Darius lets out a sigh of relief, "Keep your heading, Renifus, the X's have pulled off."  
"Hang on...Hang on, I'm losing speed," Darius' wingman says, a slight worry in his voice. The engine's dim light goes completely dark, leaving only one left running. Valen throttles down and has to pull around him as the pilot's TIE starts to fall behind. He swivels in his seat to look out his aft viewport, and sees Renifus wrestling with his controls inside his cockpit, Marsh slowing to fly alongside him.

"Get some altitude and bail out, Ren!" Marsh yells in a panic, hoping not to see another of his friends meet a horrifying end.  
Renifus' TIE starts lowering to the surface. "It's not happening, I don't have any throttle. I'm done here, I gotta try to set down!"  
"Copy Renifus, keep safe and put it down gently. Recovery crews are on the way," Darius says with a weary voice. After a moment, they start to accelerate away, keeping the towers between themselves and the enemy fighter group. Finally, a moment to rest.

Valen flops back in his seat, and rolls his head around on his shoulders to loosen his neck in the cumbersome flight helmet. The sweat pools inside his suit where the helmet seals with the neckpiece as he listens to his captain.

"Valen. Marsh," Darius addresses the only two pilots left with a worrying tone. "Honor and Distinction to us, for defending the lives of our fellow Imperials down below the surface. I know even Black Squadron will be glad we've taken the pressure off them." Valen can feel a resignation in his captain's voice. A mournful pride. "I can nearly see Yavin IV around the horizon, the Death Star's almost in range." Darius begins to lead Valen and Marsh back toward the enemy fighters. "Keep the towers at your backs. Use your TIE's speed to get around the enemy...I'm going to draw their fire." Darius' fighter accelerates ahead, banking away from Valen and Marsh. The enemy X-Wings break and turn to intercept him.

"Folund, you can't hold off 5 X-Wings! You have to stay with us and fight together!"

"Stay away from me, I'll buy you as much time as I can."

"Blast it, Folund!" Valen accelerates off to the left, Marsh following close behind, on a heading to put the X-Wings between Darius and the two of them. Darius' TIE starts firing off shots at the X-Wings and pulls around them on the far side of Valen and Marsh. The enemy fighters trade fire and trail after Darius as he flips his ship around them. The Captain makes evading 5 enemy ships look easy from far away, but Valen knows it must be hell inside his cockpit.

Just then, Darius' voice chimes in through the comms amidst the background sounds of laser fire close by. "Valen, I've got them occupied, I'm heading towards you from above. Get… attack from beneath, then swoop up behind!" Darius' fighter turns towards them and climbs far above.

"Roger, here we come!" Valen kicks his TIE into full throttle, climbing up at the enemy, Marsh following close behind.  
"Stay out of sight, Valen." Darius warns, knowing this engagement sits on the edge of a knife for them. The X-Wings don't suspect a thing, Valen and his wingman are approaching from dead in the enemys' blind spots. Closer, and closer.

Almost there, they don't look like they see us.

The pale bellies of the X-Wings and the broad sides of their quad wings show clearly in Valen's viewport as he and Marsh rush upward at them. "Hit 'em!" Valen and Marsh fire up into the underside of the front X-Wing, crumpling and melting the hull. They pass underneath the as the fighter tumbles end over end, bursting into flames. Valen yanks on his controls, and they come about as fast as they can.  
"Stick tight on me now, Marsh!"  
"Right behind you, Ace!" Marsh says intensely as they start to line up above and behind the rest of the X-Wings.

"We're right on them, Folund, keep at it!"  
"If you see a shot, you take it quick! I don't know if I can hold out much longer!" Darius shouts through the comms, his TIE diving back down toward the surface. It flicks back and forth, the enemy ships swaying around to keep on him.  
"I've got a shot!" Marsh shouts as he rakes across the rear fighter's engines. The shields hold until the last shot, which clips the lower port wing. The wing sparks and smokes, but the ship is still flying, and it starts to pull away from the group. "I didn't get it, finish it off, Ace!" Marsh yells as he pulls his fighter back around to re-engage. Valen rolls off and swoops up from beneath the fighter's tail as it looks for them, and fires. The engines across the underside break apart and the injured wing shears off, the fighter staggering for just a moment, and then exploding in a stream of flames.

"Nice one, Ace!" Marsh says elatedly, the two of them forming up again. As they get their bearings, however, they see how far they've gotten from Darius, the three remaining X-Wings swarming all over him. In the distance, a flash of red accompanies a series of bright sparks as they shoot off the back of Darius' TIE. The ship bucks and slows, the enemy fighters immediately overtaking and passing by.  
Darius grunts through the static on the comms, "Val-Valen," his voice sounding hoarse and exhausted. "They just fried my engines." A heavy sigh comes through like static. "I'm dead in the water. Got nothing left." The X-Wings swoop around for another pass, and rush back toward him.

"Folund, we're coming to you! Marsh, pull up and around, full throttle-"  
"Good luck, son. I'm proud of you." Valen powers his TIE back up and makes a sprint directly towards Folund and the enemy fighters, no longer in the blind spots. But it's too late. The X-Wings close in, and Folund's helpless TIE takes a direct hit, blasting apart in the distance. Valen's face cracks, and he bares his teeth in a grimace, but he can't make out any words. He just pants and heaves through clenched teeth as he approaches the shattered bits of Folund's TIE. He slows and flies around the wreckage high above the Death Star, catatonically staring at the pieces as they flit through space. The X-Wings circle around and head towards the final two TIEs.

"We're not gonna make it, are we, Ace?" Marsh asks, but gets no answer. Valen's twisted face starts to relax as he watches the pieces, unable to will them back together again. Unable to reverse time and prevent the death of his friend.

"What do we do now?" No answer. "Ace! What do we do?! The X-Wings are coming back!"

As Marsh's voice starts to flow back into Valen's ears, his apparent calmness starts to change. Valen's deep breaths start to become heavy as he looks out his cockpit window, the X's on approach. His lips move in sync as he hears Darius' voice echo in his head.

"Never underestimate a desperate opponent." 

"Valen, say again, I can't hear you," Marsh says, confused. Slamming his fighter into full throttle again, Valen jerks backward in his seat, charging at the enemy ships. Marsh, falling behind, struggles to keep up.

"Valen! Valen, wait! We can't take on 3 of them, it's suicide!"

"Stay with me, Marsh! We're going to kill every last one of these Rebels." Valen yanks back on his control stick as the X-Wings begin to fire, and soars above them. Before they have a chance to pull back up after him, Valen violently changes direction, crashing down on top of them, firing bolts of green light. The bolts skip and rap on the enemies' shields, and he zips right through the three of them, forcing them to split to avoid hitting him.  
"What are you doing?!" Marsh exclaims, pulling around after Valen in a wide loop. "Valen, slow down! I can't keep up!"  
"Break to 7.86 and take on that one, I'll take these two! Keep them separated!" Valen barrels after two of the ships as they rejoin each other, and Marsh breaks off to chase the lone X.

The ships spin and twirl in chaos as they fight far above the surface of the Death Star, flashes of green and red shooting out in all directions. Valen growls through his teeth as he wrestles his TIE around a tight bend, chasing the X-Wings in a climbing corkscrew. He knows they can't outmaneuver a nimble TIE like this. Surprise is on their side, the enemy fighters are grasping at straws to try and get the upper hand again. The two X-Wings swoop out of the corkscrew, Valen rushing out behind them. The fronts of the X-Wings' turbines blast out retro-fire and they drop speed, Valen firing several shots as he zips over them. The barrage burns through the shields of the rear X, and shears one of the laser cannons off the wing. The X's blast off after Valen as he dives back underneath them.

Valen grits his teeth as his vision starts to darken from all the violent maneuvering. Rapid, tense breaths shoot out through a fierce sneer as he barrel rolls and swivels his head to look out his aft porthole.  
"I got him! Ace, I got-whoa, watch out, you've got two right on you!" Marsh shouts in warning.  
"I see-" Valen stops for a second to finish his rapid turn. "I s-see them!"  
"I'm on it, they look split up! Hold on!" Marsh barrels in after the X-Wing closest to Valen, in plain view of the fighter behind.  
"Wait, Marsh, don't!" Marsh dives in, battering the lead X-Wing's shields and clipping it across the center of the fuselage, breaking it in two. Valen looks out his aft viewport as the last wounded X-Wing breaks off pursuit and heads after Marsh.  
"Got him, Ace, you're all clear-"  
"Marsh, get out of there! The last one's right above you!" Marsh's TIE jerks to one side as a shot skips across the front of his port spar. The TIE rolls erratically as the X-Wing chases him down, firing an uneven pattern of red lasers from its three remaining cannons.  
"I'm hit, Valen, I've lost control!"  
"Marsh!" Valen yells as Marsh's TIE begins to slow its tumble. The X-Wing is still on him, firing volleys of blazing red energy.  
"I-...I think I can stabilize-" Marsh's fighter is immediately clipped again, collapsing into two pieces, and erupting in flames. Valen purses his lips and takes a deep breath as he descends on the final enemy ship, closing the distance. He furrows his brow; almost in range for a shot. But just then, the wounded X-Wing swoops out to one side unexpectedly. Valen's eyes widen over the surprise, but narrow again as he chases after it. It comes back into view out of the front window, climbing away in a straight line, full throttle. It's running. The final X-Wing is bugging out!  
"You're not getting away, you outer rim scum!" Valen shouts to himself in a rage, climbing after the fighter. He grits his teeth as he slowly catches up. Nearly there. Close enough that the fighter is starting to zig-zag back and forth to evade him. Valen can see the entire moon of Yavin IV around the gas giant ahead of him, and a flight of Rebel fighters retreating, but this one will not escape back to his friends. The targeting computer gives an affirmative beep, and Valen fires directly into the enemy's tail, obliterating it. The pieces scatter to the stars in front of him as he flies through.  
"YEAH! TAKE THAT, REBEL SCU-" Valen is cut off by a deafening bang as his seat rushes forward and slams into his back, knocking the wind out of him. Valen's head whips backward and glass shoots out of his rear window into the cockpit, rattling across his helmet. Thrown violently forward, he gives a strangled yelp as his harness snaps tight at its limit, crushing his ribs. His TIE spins to one side and tumbles forward, throwing Valen's arms out in front of him like a rag doll's as he is pinned against his harness. The instruments and panels inside the starfighter spark and flicker, some of them going out completely. As he fights for breath, he hears emergency beeps going off, accompanied by dim flashes of deep red warning lights. Valen gasps and grabs at his harness as he hangs forward on it, to try and push himself off. With the fighter still tumbling out of control, he takes a few short breaths while hanging off the harness straps, and looks around.

Uhh...uh...weapon systems offline, solar panels aren't reading, engine temp: 150%, nav's not reading anything. I'm hit!

"S-Station, this is Delta Leader, I've been hit. Station do you read, this is Delta leader," Valen alerts as the stars rush upward in his cockpit view. Whirling out of control, he reaches with a clumsy hand out to his control panels, and powers down the engine functions to restart them. "Station, this is Delta Leader, I've lost control of my ship, attempting to stabilize."

The stars start to turn bright in his viewport. Blinding white light fills Valen's cockpit, and then vanishes as his TIE continues to roll through space. An explosion! Valen hasn't seen anything like it since Alderaan! Joy and triumph well up in Valen as he tracks the aftermath of the tumultuous cascade.

We did it!

"Yes!" Valen grunts, stifling his hurrah as he clasps at his ribs. He goes back to his controls and ignites his ion drives again. Grabbing his control yolk, he starts to ease his tumble, speaking into the comm once more. "Station, station, good shot, I can confirm-" Valen all of a sudden goes completely silent. As he stabilizes, he quietly gasps at what has wandered back into his dorsal viewport. Valen looks up in shock at the moon of Yavin IV. Intact. Unaffected. After a moment, he snaps out of it and panickedly looks down across his nav controls. Still nothing on sensors. Surely there must be. He flips on his emergency commlink.  
"Station? Station, do you copy?! This is Delta Leader, repeat, Delta Leader, calling for Station Command. Station Command! Commsat!" Silence. Back in control, Valen comes about to see. His TIE swoops out to one side, making a 180 degree turn.

This…this isn't possible.

Valen stares out at the bizarre sight, flying off toward the debris in his tattered fighter. As he gets closer, he sees nothing but burning pieces of ships, decks...people. All drifting outward through space. Could this be it? Could this be the wreckage of the station he once thought invincible? The station he called home? Valen gently throttles up, moving into the field. "This is Delta Leader, does anyone read? Is anyone out there?" He slowly combs through the debris in silence, nothing but a quiet, dead static filling his comms. His TIE ventures farther into the cloud, the wreckage engulfing the tiny fighter like an insignificant speck.

The voice seems inaudible, like a whisper in an empty desert. "Does anyone copy? This is Delta Leader…" 

* * *

Chapter V: Fading

As time passes, Valen's calls for survivors are beginning to seem hopeless. He continues to circle through the debris, looking for anyone. "Delta Leader, this is Delta Leader. Is there anyone alive?" He calls out in the quiet. "This is Delta leader, looking for survivors, do you copy? Is anyone-"  
The comms fizzle faintly, and Valen goes silent. Something odd. The static changes pitch, intensity; it seems like a signal. His attention shoots down to his communications readout, and he starts scanning out his cockpit window, desperately adjusting the frequencies.  
"Hello? I say again, this is Delta Leader, is someone there?"

Nothing for a moment, but after some silence, the faint hiss springs to life. An all-call emergency channel. "Cop-...coord-"  
"Unknown, this is Delta Leader. I hear you but you're breaking up. Say again."

The hiss phases out again. Valen listens carefully, cocking his head as if to hear a voice that isn't coming from inside his own helmet. After a moment of silence, the communications fizz back.  
"Delt-...der, Delta Leader…copy, what….ates?" The message is much clearer this time, but still hard to make out. They must be getting closer. Valen leans back in his seat, rolling his head upward, then leans back to his console.

"It's good to hear someone's voice! I'm reading you much clearer now, what's your position? Do you have medical supplies? I think I've broken some ribs."  
"Copy, Delta-... We are coming through to pick-..survivors, what-...coordinates?" The black helmet rears back slightly on its suited shoulders. Puzzled by the strange reply, Valen takes a moment to figure out the faint communique. He reaches into his space suit's pocket and pulls out a tiny notepad with Imperial codes and callsigns in it.

He replies in a clear, assertive tone. "Unknown. What is your position and callsign?" The comms are silent, but live. Valen can hear the difference in the static.  
"...Activate your distress beacon so we can locate you."

A sinking feeling shoots through Valen like a dagger plunged into his gut. He's in Rebel space now. The Empire has lost the battle. The station is destroyed, and he's all alone out here. The feeling slices up his back and he quickly flicks off his comms and powers everything down, leaning away from the console as if it were trying to reach out and grab him. After a moment, Valen unbuckles his harness and stiffly pivots in his seat. Looking out the shattered rear porthole, he sees nothing behind but scattered bits, and a large piece of drifting debris. He swivels back and scans the field out his front window. The area is deathly quiet. A sea of twisted wreckage and frozen bodies.

Valen slowly sits back in his seat, and grabs the straps of his harness again, but then something catches his eye. He leans back forward and looks out the top of his cockpit window. Above him, off in the distance is a teardrop shaped Rebel transport, two X-Wings in escort. The group slowly moves through the debris field, from right to left in his cockpit. Valen stares up at the group, unblinking, and reaches down to power up his retro thruster systems. With a little click, and nothing else, a tiny black screen with a cascade of red text activates below his right hand. He looks behind himself, and presses a little button for a split second. The retro thrusters give a quiet puff of gas out the front of the TIE, and the fighter slowly drifts backwards, tucking underneath the piece of large debris.

Valen sits in darkness, waiting for the Rebels' search to pass. After a while, the transport cruises off to another area. Valen watches it as it continues away, far out of sight. But just as the transport leaves, Valen's ship begins to rumble. He looks around from inside his TIE as the rumbling grows. It feels like it's coming from all around him, as Valen peers out each window to try and spot the source. He looks forward out his front window, and down below him, then shoots back into his seat, pressing as far back as he can into the shadows of his cockpit. A huge, teardrop shaped Rebel transport rises up slowly from underneath, combing the field. It's so close, Valen can see up into the belly of the clamshell shaped ship. As he stays deathly still in his cockpit, he slowly takes his gloved hand and covers the tiny lit screen. He can make out every marker light, hear the low resonance of the engines. Holding his breath, he waits in the shadows, tucked in the piece of debris. The transport just hangs there. As if staring into the debris, it stays, unmoving. All of a sudden, spotlights illuminate the field in front of it, near Valen's hiding spot. They move individually, flicking back and forth to different pieces of flotsam. Valen breathes slowly, shallowly, as the spotlights comb through the debris nearby. They're close. Too close. His heartbeat beginning to rise in his ears, Valen stares back out at the searching vessel from the darkness. As the lights get closer, he slowly reaches out with his left hand at the control yolk, and flips up the arming switch for the laser cannons. His thumb slowly positions itself on top of the firing button.

But then, he suddenly lifts his thumb again. The searchlights have shut back off. As a pair of X-Wings flies in formation overhead, the transport pivots sluggishly, and lumbers off to join them. They move silently away, Valen waiting until it's quiet again. Once they're gone, Valen breathes out a sigh of relief. Looking around, he quickly clicks on his harness and activates his retro thrusters again. Dropping down, clear of his hiding spot, his TIE quietly pivots 180 degrees. Valen looks about quickly, and ever so gently pushes a slider, powering up his ion engines to 20%. Quietly, Valen sneaks out to the edge of the debris field. Once at the outer limits, he quickly powers up to full throttle, tearing out into open space, away from Yavin IV.

The quiet void, like a blackened sea in the middle of the night, holds sparkles of white floating gently in the silence. Peace, stillness, isolation. Suddenly, a shrieking scream tears through the shroud. A hexagonal speck soars across the black, seemingly standing still against the starfield.

Valen checks his systems quietly, sporadically looking around to see if anyone has been following. Nothing on sensors, nobody around. His breaths under his helmet are gentle and shallow, so as not to aggravate his injured ribs. He sits uncomfortably in his space suit, shrugging his shoulders and loosening his neck once more. Valen looks over his systems again. Solar panels yielding a negative return. Power is running down. He takes a slow look back through his rear viewport to check on the aft edges of his solar panels. They are tattered and torn all across the back border. Some of the bracing has been twisted, and the panel material is spiderwebbed, and fraying badly. Structurally, the panels are weak, but holding. Valen looks back at his readouts and hovers his hand over a few buttons. His hand holds there for a moment, but then clenches, and returns to the control yolk. He looks out ahead and checks his windows again. Nothing. Still Rebel space. Valen continues on, the black field of stars stretching out to absolute infinity in front of him.

The void seems to continue on forever. Unending. Infinite. Not a planet in sight anymore. Moving through the silence, Valen looks back at his readouts.

Power's down to 40%. Fuel less than an ⅛ tank. Suit life support: 25%. Nothing on nav. Blast this short range fighter. What I wouldn't give for a damn hyperdrive.

Safely away from the debris field of the destroyed Death Star, Valen checks his charts.

Anywhere outside the system I can get to before my suit's life support runs out? No. But there might be an old Imperial commsat left over from the battle network. I'm gonna lose fuel before I lose power to transmit through that, but it should be ok to make it within range. I hope the Rebels don't come out this far-

Valen's thoughts are interrupted as the TIE lurches for a moment, and speeds up again. Valen's heart jumps, and he checks around at his control panels. A moment passes as he tries to figure out the problem, and the ship staggers again, shoving Valen slightly forward in his harness. Valen grunts to himself as the harness compresses his cracked ribs. This time, the jarring lurch is followed up by a rough shudder from the ship that doesn't stop. Valen pulls back in reaction as the fighter begins decelerating.

"No. No no. The tank has fuel left, you shouldn't be doing this!" Valen looks over at his readouts and taps on them. He then looks down to one side and stamps his feet on the floor, the fuel tank just underneath. The fuel reading clicks over to 0 as the TIE continues to judder, losing speed.

Valen reaches up and clasps his hands on his helmet as he gives a loud, frustrated groan, as if he's ready to throw it off. "Not now!" The judder slows in frequency to a few final death throes, and the scream of the engines dies out. "AHHH!" Valen throws himself back in his seat, contracting immediately, remembering again that his ribs are injured. After a moment, he reaches forward, cutting power to the engines. Moving his hand over the other console again, he hesitates once more, clenching his fist. Valen stares at it for a moment, and pulls away. After a short, "Blast it," Valen leans forward and quickly clicks on the switch, activating his emergency beacon. He flicks another switch, diverting power from his laser cannons as well.  
Valen leans back in his seat and gives out a defeated sigh. He holds down a button to record his distress call. "Ship in distress, ship in distress. This is Imperial Fighter Leader Delta, requesting assistance from anyone in the area… hopefully Imperial assistance. My ship is damaged. It's run out of fuel and is low on power. I am injured and need medical attention. My suit…." He pauses, and then continues quickly, trying to keep composure in his voice. "My suit might have another 4 hours or so of life support on it, please assist quickly." Valen lets go of the recording button, and sends it out to play on repeat.

It runs in the background as he cranes his head upward, staring out his cracked dorsal viewport, the yellow sun peaking over the edge of his broad solar panels. After a deep, gentle breath, the weary and exhausted Valen starts to fall asleep to the quiet sounds of the recorded message.

A fuzzy, hazy beep begins to rouse Valen from his rest. Repetitive, but for some reason doesn't feel urgent. It rings, muffled in his ears. He slowly lifts his head and looks through blurry eyes out his cockpit window. It's pitch black, nothing but the blurred light of the stars. Just like home. So beautiful. A feeling of nostalgia, a euphoric longing for home washes over Valen as he looks out upon the field of black with his tired eyes. The repeating message continues in his cockpit as he starts to come to, lazily looking around for the source of the beeping. The controls say nothing. Where is it coming from? As he looks around the cockpit, the HUD readout in his ocular lenses comes into focus.

LOW O2. CONFIRM EMERGENCY RECIRC.

Valen's heartbeat starts to rise as he looks down at the life support box built into his jumpsuit's armored chestpiece. His head tilts forward lazily, an odd struggle to make it move, as if something were trying to hold Valen's head in place. One of the lights is blinking red on his chest as well. Valen slaps clumsily at the box on his chestplate, finding the button by feel, and clicking it. He rolls his head back as filtered air starts to circulate through his suit again. It's not good, but it's an improvement. He takes a few quick gasps, and then calms himself again as he looks down across his controls.

Umm….uh….ok, focus, Valen. What….what am I doing? Hell, it should be easy, all I have to do is….ummm….

"Check your signal strength, Valen."  
"That's right, check signal strength." Valen looks down in a daze.

Signal strength is failing. Why? Why's that? The power level is at 5%!? How did that happen?!

Valen looks around and finally notices the inside of his cockpit is covered in frost, his instrument screens freezing over in the pitch black. The front viewport is crystalized nearly to the point of obscuring vision. Valen stiffly looks around, and notices something is blotting out the sun. The system's giant comet, Stroiketcy, is sitting between Valen's solar panels and the light they need.

"Your retro thrusters, Ace," the smooth voice says over the comms.  
"I'll blackout the fighter. I can't send the distress signal without power," Valen responds.

"That's fine, son. You can restart the systems when you hit sunlight."

"I don't think I can make it, Folund."

"You can make it, just stay on my wing." Valen looks out through his frosted glass, and sees the blurry form of another hexagonal solar panel just off to the right. "Delta Leader, activate your forward retro thrusters on my mark. That's an order."

Valen's head rolls sluggishly on his shoulders as he flops his hand down to his controls. "Yes, sir."  
"Mark." Darius' TIE gives a quiet blast in front of Valen, and Valen activates his retro thrusters to keep the two of them from colliding. After a half a second, the TIE's cockpit lights completely cut out.  
"Ah….hell." Valen says exhaustedly in complete darkness, his limbs numbed in the cold.

"Valen? Valen, can you hear me?"  
"I don't know if that's enough. Power's gone now."  
"You're doing-...Ace. We're getting...rom under this..." Darius' voice starts to crackle and drift away as the two of them move slowly backwards through space. After some time, the shadow of the comet begins to recede, acquiescing to the light. The yellow sunlight falls on the fighter's injured solar panels, bathing them in energy.

Valen waits a moment for the panel to soak up the rays of the system's sun. "I hope this works," Valen grumbles lethargically as he reaches up above him at the top of his cockpit. He takes a firm hold of a heavy, utilitarian handle above his head, and strains against it. With a great yelp, he lets go and shoots his hand back to his torso, as if trying to hold himself together.  
"You alright in there, Valen?"  
"My chest! I can't!" Valen sits in silence, clutching his body.  
After a moment, Darius' calm voice returns. "We fight to survive, Rannix. Try again."  
"...Yes sir," Valen says as he rises in his seat again. Gripping the handle with both hands, Valen sneers and growls out a yell as he slowly twists it 180 degrees. He regrips, and slowly, with another shout, twists it again, his ribs crunching under the strain. Regripping one last time, and breathing intensely, Valen hangs from the handle, his head drooping forward on his shoulders.  
"Come on, Valen!" Darius' voice shouts through the comms. Valen grunts and howls as he gives the handle a final, agonizingly slow spin, and collapses back against his seat. Silent once more, but for the labored breathing of his exhausted and pained voice, Valen sits slouched as the lights in the cockpit begin to dimly flicker to life. Sluggishly, he clicks a switch, and the recorded message starts to repeat in the cockpit once more.

"Good, Valen….I'm very proud of you." Darius' communications fizzle out, and Valen is left in silence once more. He looks up slightly, and sees the ice crystals along his front viewport receding as they melt in the yellow light of the Yavin sun. Folund and his TIE are gone.

Valen drops his head, breathing shallow, labored breaths, his arms now hanging dead at his sides. Slowly, Valen's body slumps over, and begins to hang against the harness. The breathing begins to slow, and then stops. Lifeless, Valen remains, tied to his seat as white light begins to creep into the cabin from the window.

Alone. Quiet in the void. Free. 


End file.
